Hell's Princess
by Snowmaiden Freya
Summary: Synopsis: During the summer after Third year, Harry goes through some changes. Some for the better and some for the worse. Our hero receives the opportunity of a lifetime. A new perspective at school, a new chance at life, relatively speaking. Trans!Harry Fem!Harry. Femslash. Dark? Rated M for blood, gore, sexual situations.
1. Prologue

**Corvus Studios presents:**

 **Mortal Reminder: Hell's Princess**

 **⦕A Harry Potter story...of sorts⦖**

 **.**

 **A/N: Hey all. Sorry I've been quiet for so long. Here's the pilot...a really vague pilot for ta new fanfic.**

 **Btw, consider this a rewrite of Filia Corvus...sorta. Anyways, Enjoy.**

* * *

 _ **Prologue**_

Lilith Potter nee Evans gave an annoyed huff as she slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb her slumbering husband. The man whom held her adoring gaze. Quickly, she fixed the covers and tiptoed out of the room.

It was the twentieth time she had taken a pregnancy test over the last four months that showed a negative. Over dozens of times had she made love to James in an effort to get pregnant. Yet every next morning, her detection charms always turned up negative.

So here she was in her study with parchment and ink next to a stack of various books. The topics were all potion and charms related. She hoped that this midnight jaunt to research would give her any insight. Every few minutes, the silence would be temporarily be shattered by the sound of rustling parchment, the scratch of a quill or the arc of a page turning.

More than once did she chew on the nib of her quill, unconsciously getting ink all over the lower portion of her face. The lone candle lit was burning merrily while the copper haired witch attempted to sort out her issue.

A warm pair of arms drew the redhead from her thoughts. She inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of old leather, cinnamon and pine. It wasn't cologne, just her husband's natural scent.

"Knut for your thoughts love?"

Shaking her head, Lily said, "Go back to bed you toerag." She said that affectionately. "I'll be right with you after I finish jotting down my thoughts. This problem has been nagging at me for some time. Just a little bit more time."

He gave her a brief kiss, "Don't be too long, hon. And wash your face before you do." He laughed a little. She smiled at him wistfully, hiding her hurt inside. She had yet to find a cure to her infertility. It was driving her nuts on top of the shame of being unable to give James an heir.

* * *

The next few days, the brightest mundane-born witch had continued to pore over the entirety of the Potter Library in an attempt to seek out the key to curing her barren womb and restore her fertility. If it hadn't been for the war, she would have broadened her horizons and went to other countries for a cure. But everyone on the offensive unit was to lay low for a few months and thus Lily was contained to England.

After a week straight of delving into her research, it appeared she may have found the key. If one made an offering of certain ingredients on a full moon, the magic of nature would heal her and allow her to have a child. Which is why she was sneaking about the woods of Godric's Hollow. Making sure she was alone in the forgotten grove, Lily began to set up the ritual.

Within an ancient dolmen, was a hand carved wooden bowl with an offering of freshly picked roses nestled inside. An effigy of a small child and a small number of other symbolic objects had joined the tribute. Atop of the metholithic stone slab, a bouquet of dried sage, lavender, wild vanilla and patchouli was lit for incense. And then Lily prayed; she silently begged and pleaded for someone - anyone who could help her.

Tendrils of smoke twisted and curled skyward. Grasping and thrashing in an attempted to stay earthbound. Tongues of flame licked the tribute, devouring the helpless offering. A thick, but pleasant aroma filled the grove as the herbs smoldered.

A few minutes passed and nothing significant had happened. Her research into friendly spirits had guaranteed one would appear. Nearly ten minutes later, the herbs were almost entirely ash now. With a forlorn expression on her features, she began to clean up the site. When she reached to pick up the bowl, a strange voice commanded her to stop. Looking up, Lily found that her prayer had been answered.

Instead of the typical woodland spirit (usually in the form of a dryad or nymph), a far more elusive creature had appeared to answer the call. Appearing out of thin air, was a rather tall female figure clothed in finely woven silk garments. Snowy white locks woven into extravagant braids that fell to her hips. Pointed ears that protruded out a bit further than her own. And finally, Lily noticed a pair of delicate wings that appeared a cross between a butterfly and a wasp's were nestled on her back, neatly folded. Translucent but with a tinge of blue, green and teal swirling as though painted with a brush.

"I have heard your plight," The winged woman said, "and so I shall grant this boon should you succeed in the task I ask of you. Harvest the seed whence your child is to be borne of. On the day we know as Samhain, deliver it to me. I will need a few other ingredients, as well as your blood; that however will need to be drawn fresh of the day of the ritual. On that night, your wish of having a child shall come true."

"May I...may I know thy name?"

A smirk rose on the woman's lips, "Names hold power, little doe. But thou hast called me upon this night. I am feeling generous, so yes. I will tell you." She bent forward and whispered into the redhead's ear, "Titania."

"Queen of the Fae?" gasped Lily, bright green eyes wide with awe, bowing in respect. The fair skinned woman gave a mischievous wink before disappearing, leaving a small mist of sparkles.

All that remained, was a glimmer of hope in Lily's eyes.

* * *

The following days passed and James hadn't suspected a thing. After a romantic date in, she had given her husband a spiked butterbeer. An hour of Wizarding radio and he was out like a light. After she had lain the wizard in bed, Lily wanked him to orgasm, capturing every last drop in a crystal phial.

In all honesty, she could have just let the Marauder cum on her face and scoop it into a vial. Of course that thought hadn't occurred to her until she had a relevant epiphany. Regardless, she sealed the treasure with both an unbreakable charm and a stasis charm.

On the days leading up to the hallowed day, Lily had secluded herself into her study. Since the first encounter with the fae, she needed to know more. With as many books of relevancy, the copper haired witch began her research on the fabled fairy queen. There was no way she would go through with it without being as prepared as she could. Desperate for child, but not foolish.

On October 31st, Lilith Potter returned to the same clearing she had accidentally summoned the Queen of Faeries. This time, there he been no need to make an offering. The Queen of Fae had shown up entirely on her own.

The mortal witch didn't remember what Titania wore last time, but much less provocative than her apparel today.

"You brought the seed of your mate?" came her query, the first words she spoke this meeting.

Nodding, Lily fished the phial from the inside pocket of her robes and proffered it to the Fairy Queen. Said magical being gently took it and stepped back a few feet.

Taking the freshly harvested blood, imaginary brushes painted archaic runes and sigils even Lily didn't know. Next, Titania opened the stasis sealed vial of the human's husband's seed. Instead of inserting it the muggle way, the semen floated up and congealed into a viscous ivory sphere. Incomprehensible chanting could be heard from faceless servants as the pearl leveled with the Fairy Queen's abdomen. When it was at the same height as the female creature's womb, it phased through her skin.

Watching the fae woman doing the bizarre ritual, the muggleborn witch's face contorted into worry. Then she was trying to prevent tears from escaping to no avail. Soon enough, the salty tears came in full force, staining the redhead's cheeks.

Tilting her head, Titania asked as she stepped closer, "What is wrong, child of Eve?"

Sniffling, the Mistress of Charms sobbed, "I feel horrible for going behind James' back. What kind of devoted wife am I?"

"Worry not dear Lily," crooned the Fae queen as she stroked the crying witch's copper locks. "Your child is growing inside me as we speak. Upon her birth, she shall arrive in the night."

Sniffling, the witch wiped away her tears, "Thank you. Thank you so much. I am forever in your debt, Lady Titania. If there's anything you ever need, I shall do it."

With a warm smile, the silver haired faery said, "Your generosity is a diamond against the worn riverstones of humanity. But I do have a little nugget of information to impart with you before I depart."

Looking up, Lily asked, "A-and what is that, your highness?"

"Your child will be a special little girl, of that I have no doubt. Any latent abilities in your line may come to appear. She may be born a boy; James has powerful genes, that much I know. Boys have a higher rate to be born, at least by magical standards. Even as we speak, your child forms within me. But as she will be birthed by fae, the wild magic can possibly change her in more than one way. Our magic is so much different than humankind, but it has happened before. A mortal child birthed by a fae surrogate in exchange for service, money or other things.

"These alterations vary subject to subject. Some appear as a normal human. Others have fae fears such as wings or pointed ears. Sometimes they become more primal than mortal. If there is even a hint of something inhuman in her, you can more than bet it could make an appearance. In the end, they all end up as females. You should choose a girl name for her besides whatever your husband has picked out," finished the empress of fae.

Shaking her head, the mortal woman said, "I will love her regardless of how she turns out. Boy or girl, my child will be the most beautiful child in the entire world!"

* * *

 **A/N: Hope you liked the little intro.**


	2. Chapter I

**A/N: A/N: Sorry it took so long for this chapter to be released. That's due to some indecision on my part. I was originally going to do the foreign school 'trope' thing. But I decided against it after listening to some music on the way back from a doctor's appointment. So. New direction. I hope y'all enjoy.**

 **PS: Consider this the real first chapter**

* * *

 _ **Chapter I**_

Morning came too early for Harry Potter's likening. Over the last year, he had really gotten used to sleeping in instead of being up at five AM. His eyes opened to face the same boring ceiling he'd woken up to for the past three years or so.

Today, there was a feeling in his gut that was odd. Something was different. Very different. Almost a sensation of foreboding that would put anyone on edge. A bad day or monumental change? There was only one way to find out, and that was to get his lazy ass out of bed.

So when he had sat up and swung his feet over the edge of the bed, he realized through his bleariness, his feet didn't touch the floor. Did he get shorter while he was asleep?

Standing up, Harry felt a heaviness laying on his chest. It wasn't quite the soreness he got from working out or doing the chores. But a very unfamiliar weight nonetheless. Then something else besides his height felt...lighter. Grabbing the old pair of glasses from his nightstand, he placed them on his nose. It was fuzzy. When he went to wipe the lens on the blanket. But the moment they were in his hands, the blurriness had gone away. He set them down, shaking his head. Maybe magic had finally corrected his vision.

Halfway to the bathroom, the raven haired mage nearly tripped on his too long pajama bottoms. A few unsavory words later, he had made it to the upstairs bathroom. Just as Harry was about to pull his pjs down to pee, he caught sight of himself in the mirror.

Instead of a young man, was a girl who looked like she was sixteen. She was a little shorter than Harry had been. Her appearance was rather regal in the features department. Adorning her head were black and copper tresses that sank to her shapely rear. Hips had flared out, making them much more girly. Her arms were thinner than Harry's and hands much more slender. The nails mimicked a basic manicure. Being topless, there was nothing covering her impressive bust. Her breasts were rather large, and by his estimation, around a big C to a moderate D cup. Rich cherry hued lips held a prim appearance. The starkness of her green eyes was the only thing that have him any familiarity of who she was supposed to be. Already thick lashes had lengthened elegantly to what a noble woman's would be preened to.

She then glanced at her nose and noticed how petite, and straight it was compared to the nose that she had broken and injured so many times as she had been beaten by her uncle. It was perfectly centered on her face and aligned with no awkward bends or arches that hindered her looks.

Then, she finally glanced down to her pinkish cherry lips. They were small and delicate with no source of dryness or ruptures to be found anywhere. This urged her to lick her lips with her light pink tongue which had gained a very demonic appearance; increased length and a slight taper to the tip. She marveled that her piercing had been pushed out or bothered her with tightness. However, she immediately regretted it as she blushed at how seductive and sexually cute her reflection looked as she did this and instantly brushed her lips with the back of her left hand, absorbing any wetness that was there.

After brushing her hand aside, she continued to gaze at her entire face as a whole. She noticed her head was more petite, her chin was more v shaped, her face resembling the outline of a heart, her neck more slender, and her skin fair and smooth, missing any form of acne or blemish that could hinder her perfection.

Every movement he made, she copied his actions to a 'T' so very unnervingly. When he had let his lounge pants drop, Harry gasped. Between his legs was not the familiar little Mr Happy, but a hairless mound instead. His skin was smooth except where there was a slit that opened to reveal a vagina at a very light touch. The petals were a light pink and turned darker as he looked at the feminine organ in the mirror.

Immediately he pulled up his trainers as realisation dawned on Harry Potter: he had been turned into a girl! One hundred percent female!

Upon receiving that epiphany, his hair flared to a bright blue tinged with bronze. Of course this freaked him out further, turning his hair a mixed shade of silver and orange. Unable to go forth with taking a shower, Harry retreated back to his bedroom.

Hedwig was sitting restlessly in her cage, unperturbed by the change in her master- mistress. Unlocking the metal corral, Harry let her out. She ruffled her feathers now that the gorgeous avian had more room and began smoothing her snowy plumage down.

"I know girl, you're the most beautiful owl in the world." Said familiar preened at the compliments and gave Harry's ear a gentle wizard turned witch grabbed a wrinkled sheet of parchment and began scratching down a message.

 _Dear Padfoot,_

 _First off, I still can't believe I have a godfather and that you're actually real. I kept having horrible dreams that you had your soul sucked out or didn't want me. I mean, I grew up knowing I was just a freak until I learned I had magic. And until Hagrid told me, I was told my parents were lazy, no good drunks according to my uncle. And that they died in a car crash rather being victims of a brutal murder._

 _And that's not even the worst the Dursleys have done to me. I didn't know what my name was until I hit primary school. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon always call me Boy or Freak. Not once have I heard them call me Harry and it's so frustrating. Living with them all my life, I can conclude they're not good people._

 _Since I could reach the stove (with a foot stool mind you) I had to do all the cooking except when Uncle Vernon had guests over. Did Dudley ever do any chores? No, I had to do everything! Aunt Petunia doesn't even do the cleaning anymore. It's MY job to make the house spic and span. If there's even one smudge of grime in the bathroom, she hits me with a newspaper or sometimes something heavier and orders me to do it all over again. I'm not a house elf!_

 _For fuck's sake, those bloody wankers made me sleep in a broom cupboard for the first eleven years of my life. Who does that to a kid? Did Dumbledore even know about it? Or did the fruitloop just look the other way?_

 _Don't get me started on my fat cousin! He makes a game with his minions and calls it Harry Hunting! He hits me and I end up with bruises that hurt down to the bone! The worst part about him is that he can hurt me in front of my aunt and uncle and he doesn't get in trouble. Or like the really bad incidents like after Dobby dropped a pudding cake on one of Uncle's guests from Grunnings, he punched me really hard. Or like after the accidental glass vanishing incident at the zoo, he whipped me with his belt and forced me into my cupboard for a month, only letting me out every two days to go to the bathroom._

 _But now I have you, Padfoot. You and Moony are all I have left to remember my parents by. And the weird thing is, it's not so much as remembering who they were, but more of trying to acquaint myself with the people who made me. I mean, I appreciate their sacrifice, but I guess I never really knew them. Should they really mean that much to me? There's just so much about them that remains an enigma to me._

 _Anyway, that's not why I'm writing you. Something weird happened to me while I was asleep. I...I don't know how to explain it better than you'd know if you just saw it. So you see, I really need your help. Please come down to Surrey if you can. I need someone and I can't tell anyone._

 _Love, Harry_

 _P.S, Sorry for ranting about my childhood when I really just wanted to let you know I'd really like to see my godfather. But it does feel kinda good to tell that to someone after bottling that stuff away for years. Er sorry, I'm rambling again..._

Once he or rather she finished penning the letter to her godfather, Harry slumped back into bed. Hedwig let herself out, cleverly opening the locked window with her free talon. Harry gave a wistful smile at the reproachful look she got when the owl glared at her before taking off.

A hand rested on her chest. Once it had been flat as a board, but now had two fleshy swells anchored by muscle and sinew. A breast that felt strange. Strange, but right. Sure she had always been weird, but how could this feel right?

Shouldn't she be freaking out? Most guys would be panicking at seeing themselves lose their knob. But after having some time to calm down once the initial shock wore off, Harry kinda liked having long hair. It was really pretty. As a guy, she got made of for it. But if she lived as a girl, no one would mind. People might even actually like it!

When she had been younger, Harry had tried to get Aunt Petunia to buy her a dress. There had been a scoff and a beating when they had gotten home. She had never brought it up again after that. Harry had always been jealous that women always had more clothing choices than men. More ways to express herself. But she had always been stuck in her cousin's castoffs.

Then there was the 'Boy-Who-Has-Too-Many-Hyphenations' business. Since she had turned eleven and found out she was a wizard- witch, everyone knew her for something she really didn't do. A night where her parents died but she didn't. She would trade her fame and celebrity status just to have them back. Perhaps...she didn't need to be Harry Potter anymore...

' _Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to start over, as a witch...'_ It was those last thoughts that ran through Harry's head before she drifted off into the land of dreams.

* * *

Sirius Black - 'convicted' mass murderer and all around dark wizard was pissed. Moments ago, he had just finishing a surprisingly lengthy letter from his godson. His hands were shaking as he held the delicate parchment.

Sure the occasional shiver and twitch was a side effect from twelve years in Azkaban, but this time, it was from the unbridled fury he was experiencing. The letter was a cry for help. Not directly, but it was obvious to a formerly seasoned Auror that this was a case of domestic abuse.

It had become personal the moment it became involved with Harry. He had known Lily's mundane sister hated magic, but Sirius hadn't thought it to be at a level of zealotry. A horrible woman and her shallow husband were hurting his godson.

"Those blasted muggles are going to wish they were dead!" he all but snarled, walking towards a hidden alley in which he could apparate.

* * *

Only a few hours passed when Harry had woken up from her nap. For a moment, she panicked when she saw the breasts on her chest, remembering it hadn't just been a bad dream. "Oh right, I'm a girl now. Great..."

It was a nightmare when she had to pee, sitting down and unfamiliar organs doing a natural bodily function. She had wiped her crotch and washed her hands with an anxiousness she hadn't experienced before. It'd take time to get used to it, if this was going to be a permanent thing. Before Dudley could see her, Harry darted back to her bedroom.

The doorbell rang. Harry half expected her uncle to yell for her to get the door. But instead, there was silence except for the ticking of the analog clock sitting at her desk. A few muffled sounds reached her ears. Then nothing. Had a Death Eater managed to get into the house?

Cursing the fact that her wand and everything in her trunk had been locked up, Harry crept down the stairs. She didn't realize her hair had shifted to an awkward orange color. She was too focused on whomever was intruding. When she made it to the bottom and peaked into the den, she saw something she hadn't expected to see.

Sirius Black was sitting on Uncle Vernon's favorite armchair with an air of satisfaction on his face. The Dursleys were bound and gagged by a spell she wasn't particularly familiar with. They were in a heap that appeared to be really uncomfortable and she gave a little snicker under her breath.

Neither Petunia, Vernon or Dudley looked to be in any good shape at all. The horse faced woman had a black eye and probably a broken wrist. The overweight teen suffered several bruises and had fallen unconscious, like he had been cold cocked. But the walrus faced husband was in the worst state: Vernon was covered in bite marks; some bled and some didn't break the skin. The foul tempered man was also covered in bruises and a few cuts made by glass or porcelain.

Since she had last seen him, Harry noticed that her godfather had shaved and cleaned up. He was even wearing semi-decent robes of silver, black and indigo. The wizard was in the middle of dressing down her relatives and telling them they were horrible people unfit to take care of anyone.

Her hair had turned a bright sunny yellow, eyes lit up and tackled the man. "SIRIUS! I'm so glad to see you!"

The black haired wizard blinked, not even resisting as her hands wrapped around his middle. He certainly didn't feel like he was in danger from this slip of a woman. He knew the Dursleys only had one child. The gears turned slowly in his head before he made the connection. "Harry?" he asked slowly. "Is that you?"

She nodded vigorously. "This is the bizarre thing I was telling you about in the letter Hedwig gave you. I woke up like this early in the morning. I freaked out about it mostly when I woke up. I slept for most of the day, not expecting you to get here so soon. I thought you were down in the tropics since the last letter you sent me was with a giant macaw. Now, I'm just confused. What's going on?"

While the witch was speaking, her golden hair briefly faded to a jade green before settling on a shade of purple between silver, violet and lilac. A few strains of azure blue speckles webbed through those tresses gave the impression of the night sky before dawn.

The formerly imprisoned wizard stared at the girl clinging to his robes. A few minutes passed before he began chuckling. "I understand now. Really, I don't think anyone would have seen this coming. Lily even, probably would never thought something like this could happen. To be honest, I didn't think it could come out so late!"

"W-what do you mean?" squeaked Harry, just adding to her confuzzlement. Again her hair changed colors, turning a mixture of blue and orange with hints of tawny gold.

"You're a metamorphmagus; a witch or wizard with the innate ability to shapeshift at will. I knew it was an amazing magic, but I didn't think it could go crossgender. I have a little cousin who's one. Typically, Wizarding parents discover their child is a metamorph at birth." Touseling her hair affectionately, Sirius continued, "It's mostly a Black family trait I thought had died out after your great aunt Dorea. But it looks like you or something suppressed it until now. You're an even more special snowflake now."

Harry looked awkwardly to her godfather. "So what now? I'm sure this creates a lot of problems and I'm sure my relatives would rather I leave for good if it was up to them. After all, I'm just a huge burden..."

Padfoot scowled when Vernon made a grunt of approval at the witch's talk of self depreciation. He gave the fat tub of lard a vicious kick. The muffled whale of a man whimpered despite how angry he was.

"We're leaving this dump of a place," said Sirius as he brushed away the unshed tear that had been threatening to spill down his goddaughter's porcelain cheek. "I'm taking you to where I grew up. Well, before I became a freeloader at your dad's place. I don't care what that berk Dumbledore thinks is best. You're my responsibility; your father honored me with the duty of being your godfather and dammit I'm taking control. We grab everything you wanna keep and then we'll leave. Their bindings will disappear only after we're long gone."

When Harry had finished packing everything she cared to shove into her trunk (with a bit of magical help from Sirius), they vacated the absurdly clean (now messy) home on Privet Drive. Hedwig was told to fly ahead and her cage stowed away.

She said goodbye to the small family of garden snakes that had kept her company over the years. They were sad to see her leave, but wished her luck and safety from dangerous birds. It was an odd sentiment coming from a legless reptile, but it tugged at her heartstrings nonetheless.

With nothing more left to do, Harry gripped the handle of her trunk. She was glad to say goodbye to the unnaturally 'perfect' neighborhood. When told to hold on tight, she wrapped her free arm around her godfather's waist. Only a moment had passed before the two disappeared from the end of Wisteria Walk.

* * *

The two appeared in a dark alley that let to a suburban area. Harry and Sirius trekked a few blocks before stopping at a horizontal cluster of townhouses. It was a quaint little neighborhood, but she didn't think a dark Pureblood family would have a manor around so many muggles. Speaking of such, she didn't see any buildings around that spoke of luxury. Everything just seemed middle class. It was neither a high class nor a poor place.

Looking at the plaques on the two homes, Harry saw they read 11 and the one to the right, 13. There was no twelve in sight. At first she turned around to the other side, thinking it had an odd even alternating system. But there were no homes. Just a canal and another part of London on the other side. It was so perplexing and was about to ask when her godfather leaned down.

Whispering into Harry's ear, Sirius said, "Number 12 Grimmauld Place can be found here. The House of Blacks is for those who honor and share our blood. Toujours Pur."

Suddenly, the space between 11 and thirteen began stretching. In a matter of seconds, number 12 had appeared, looking like it had been there all along. It taunted her, making her feel as blind as when she had worn glasses.

"What the hell was that?" asked a stupefied Harry, her hair turning a shade between baby blue and yellow. She was lucky no muggles were around to see her hair shifting colors on its own accord.

With a little chuckle, the ex convict said, "Amazing, isn't it. The Fidelius charm can hide anyone or anything from the knowledge of people who don't know the secret and password. Almost as if never existed." Opening the door, he motioned in, "C'mon in, pup."

Harry nodded as she stepped over the threshold into what appeared to be an entry hall. Along the walls down to a door at the end were mount severed heads of house elves. Each head had a placard and a date of the time in which they had served. The eldest one dated back to 1496. Terms seemed to last between 50 to 100 years. Oddly dedicated.

Noticing his goddaughter making a face at the stuffed heads, he laughed, "Yeah, I'm not a big fan of them either. It's been a weird family tradition to cut off our house elves' heads when they get too old to serve tea. My great uncle something revived it because he thought it honorable. Personally think it's a bit mad."

Harry shook her head. "It's not right. Why would your ancestors do such a horrid thing?" Her godfather merely shrugged, dropping the subject. A few moments of walking and the two found themselves in the foyer.

"Kreacher!"

With a resounding crack, an ancient and miffed looking servitor spoke in a gravelly voice, "What does the filthy blood traitor Master want?"

"I'm going to continue cleaning this place, you're gonna help me you little shit. You really shouldn't have let it fall to this level of disrepair. Especially with this dust. I mean, really?" Sirius continued berating the rebellious house elf. After a little bit longer of dressing down, the wizard turned to his godchild and said, "I'll call you down when it's time to eat."

Harry nodded and began the slow process of choosing a room. In the end, she had decided to to take up Bellatrix' old room. It didn't take her too long to pull her school things out and put them on the smallish bookshelf. Hedwig's cage sat on a mahogany desk by the window. There was no need to close the carrier's door. Her lovely owl could come and go as she pleased.

There was an expansive closet to hang up both her school robes and muggle dressings. She didn't have a whole lot of belongings even though she had a fortune left by her parents. She never really got out of her frugal mindset since she had been old enough to do the chores the Dursleys had foisted on her.

The newly turned witch spent a great deal of time talking to her owl, not caring the intelligent bird couldn't answer. For the next few hours, Harry began to absently re-read through last year's defense material.

* * *

At dinner, Harry sat across from her godfather. The meal didn't look bad, but she didn't feel hungry despite how amazing it smelled. There were too many things on her mind despite her stomach protesting the self starvation. She'd pay for it later.

"Sirius?"

The man rubbed his eyes as he sat up. He had been watching Harry a little too closely, worried what the Dursleys had done to her was still affecting her. If she hadn't been off in her own little world, she would have noticed him blatantly staring at her. "What's up?"

Biting her lip, Harry nervously asked, "W-would you be disappointed if...if I told you that I wanted to stay a girl?"

Confused features spread across the English wizard's face. "Whatcha mean, pup?"

While she fidgeted, the girl's gaze fell to the floor. "Y-you see... I-I've always been different. I've never been like the other boys. I've always changed in the privacy of the bathroom or in my bed with the curtain drawn. And I..." She moans in frustration, wondering why it was so hard to confess. She'd been trying to tell someone for years but never had the courage to go through with it. Taking a deep breath, she exhaled quickly, "I want to keep my hair long, wear what witches and muggle girls do. These last few years have just sucked. Discovering I had magic was amazing and learning I have a godfather, don't get me wrong. But I am just tired of being put on a pedestal only to be torn down at a moment's notice. I don't... I really don't want to be Harry Potter anymore. I wanna be normal. A normal girl."

As a smile graced his lips, Sirius left his seat and walked around so he could hold his goddaughter close. After a moment, he said, "That's just fine kiddo. James and Lily would have loved a baby girl too. So, whatcha wanna be called? Y'know, the lady you name."

As though she had thought about this extensively, the metamorph replied immediately, "Raela. I've always thought it was really pretty and regal. It was the name of a queen I believe. And I...I think it'd be a cute name for me. I-if that's okay..."

"Raela is a damn adorable name," grinned the Marauder as he ruffled the young witch's hair. "Lily would have loved that name. James... he'd think it's _too_ girly. I think it's a great name and it suits your just fine. Don't tell Lupin I said that."

She pouted at having her hair messed up, but still shocked that her godfather was taking it so well. "T-thanks, Sirius."

"You look so much like your mum," Sirius said fondly. "Even with your newly discovered talents to be a metamorphmagus, your unconscious mind gave you a body similar to hers. Your impossibly green eyes, slim frame...and well...I guess those eh boobs are way bigger than Lily's. Arse too."

"Leave it to my perverted godfather to be staring at a thirteen year old girl's chest and butt," Raela teased snidely.

The old dog blushes and rubbed his shoulder. He muttered, "Can you blame me? You're hot..." That comment earned him a face full of potatoes which caused the both to erupt into soft laughter.

After they ate, Raela found herself exhausted from the day and went to bed. If this was to be her new life, it was loads better than being subjected to the Dursley's cruelty and torment a moment longer. A thousand times better than being a celebrity whose image no one could live up to. Being a girl and not being the Boy-Who-Lived may just be the best decision she would ever make.

* * *

The next day, Raela woke around mid morning. A mumbled tempus told her it was a little before ten after ten. She got a quick shower in and then headed to the kitchen after throwing on some of the women's clothes she found in the closet.

When she got down, there were two witches in the corridor as she came down the stairs. Sirius was in the midst of greeting them. As he did so, Raela peered at them with a bit of curiosity. The taller of the two was an older witch with graying black hair. She seemed firm, but relatively relaxed The other was younger and had bubblegum pink hair and appeared fairly young.

"I didn't think I'd see the day where cousin Sirius, the famed mass murderer would invite my daughter and I to the ancestral family townhouse," came Andromeda's dry comment as she entered the foyer.

Sirius pulled the dark haired witch into a hug as he cheered, "Andy! So glad you could make it! I was almost sure you would have just burned the letter I sent and maybe even tipped off the Ministry. And hey twerp, glad you came too."

To her elder cousin, the witch in her mid twenties rolled her eyes, "I still dunno why you wanted me to tag along. S'not like I'm much of an auror. Haven't even graduated yet... I mean, I could report you to Moody or Bones."

Raising a hand meekly, Raela raised a hand and said, "The dogfather asked you two here for me. If it's not too much of a problem." As she spoke, her hair shifted from her normal triple hued hair to white tipped black.

Nymphadora's eyes widened and her jaw fell into a gape. "Bloody hell! You're a metamorph too?! If ya don't mind me asking, who are you to be in my cousin's 'disreputable' company? He didn't kidnap you, did he?"

"Don't be a fool, Nym-"

Said witch snarled, "It's Tonks! If you say my name, I'll bind you and stomp on your walnuts!"

Wincing at the mere mention, Sirius said, "Eurgh, that's a savage and overtly cruel image. But no, I haven't kidnapped her. She's my goddaughter." Both Tonks females remained confused and he sighed. "Harry Potter! I don't know why it took so long for the ability to surface, but apparently she is one. We had a discussion and she decided she would like to be female for the rest of her life. And to call her Raela."

"So you want me to train her?"

Grinning, Sirius replied, "Yup. Can't have her going to Hogwarts without knowing how to stop being so awkward and clumsy. Like you!"

Dora slugged the Black wizard who winced as he was chewed out, "You ass! I'm clumsy because I'm a metamorph! Do you have any idea how disorienting it is to be constantly changing my height, weight and fat distribution?"

With a shrug, the Marauder said, "Well before anything, I want Andy to have a look at her. I don't know what her relatives did, but she doesn't look too healthy. But the lessons can wait until after lunch."

Andromeda sobered. What her cousin was saying was that Raela had been possibly abused and or neglected. Such inclinations pointed to the muggle relatives being sentenced to life in Azkaban, or even death.

"Hello, I'm right here! Don't talk about me as if I was still at the Dursleys," huffed the young metamorph as her hair turned scarlet with Christmas green streaks.

The healer witch said as she patted the younger witch's head, "Sorry dear, your old mutt was just letting me know his...request. I'm going to run some scans on you and you're going to sit still."

With a huff, the thirteen year old witch muttered as she crossed her arms under her bust, "Fuh-ine!"

For the next hour, Andromeda poked and prodded her wand at Raela's body while asking normal and fairly awkward questions. The results had determined that the last Potter's change into a female was 100% real, ruling out curses, potions or rituals. The tests had also analyzed the girl's long term and short term health.

Once that was over, Andy had started prescribing a whole bunch of potions for Raela to take. It started getting a little ridiculous when she was handed a second page of potions she needed to take to correct her malnutrition.

* * *

After they had a light lunch of sandwiches, pumpkin juice and some treacle fudge for dessert, Tonks (the younger) had pulled the almost fourteen year old into an empty bedroom with a full length floor mirror.

Tonks had given her a small show of the different ways she should alter her appearance down to the smallest detail.

It took Raela a couple minutes to regain her composure, having enjoyed the odd sight of someone's body changing quite a bit. Once she did, she noticed the odd look Nymphadora was giving her but was quickly distracted by Andromeda talking again, "There are limitations. Dora here can get to the size of a small goblin and I'd have no doubts that you'd be the same. Unlike Polyjuice potions, you stay the same weight as you originally were. Unlike Polyjuice potions, however, you can take on animal traits, such as a pigs snout or a duck's bill. Knowing anatomy helps you with details - such as scars or giving yourself night-vision - but the natural magic of the metamorphmagus keeps you from making it so you have no throat or something like it."

The younger witch's eyes lit up as a myriad of thoughts swirled around her braincase. She was very familiar with the way Polyjuice potion worked. After all, she had transformed into Goyle in her second year to question Malfoy. It still gave her the shudders when she thought about it.

The older witches had her begin with something simple like changing the color of her nails and her eyes. There was a bit of a funny accident when Raela had turned the sclera of her eyes black instead of white.

She knew this lesson wasn't everything she needed to learn in order to control these powers. Raela didn't want to wake up to a completely different appearance each morning. Or let her emotions control her. Dead looking skin and nails had been terrifying enough when she had a small bout of depression. She would just need to work harder.

* * *

After the exhausting three hour lesson on attempting controlling her metamorphmagus abilities, Raela had taken a shower. Her hair was still damp when she entered the dining room to start setting the table for dinner.

Half an hour later, Andromeda and Raela had whipped up a delicious meal out of excellent beef sirloin and leafy greens. Dessert was to be mousse of varying flavors. The young metamorph had no idea how much a difference magic could make while cooking. It had been a life changing epiphany to see how much more she could make in a shorter amount of time.

Dinner itself had been a raucous affair. The Black family blood always held true it seemed. There was plenty of laughter and stories told. Updates in daily lives and questions about the rest of the remaining members of the family. During the last course, Sirius had asked to see her once everything had been cleaned up.

"C'mere kiddo," intoned the dark haired man sitting in a fancy dragon leather armchair as Raela walked into the den. Obediently, the young witch knelt by her godfather's feet and peered up at the once emaciated man. A year away from Azkaban had done him quite well.

After a moment's hesitation, the metamorph asked, "You wanted to see me?"

"I've been thinking since you decided to stay a girl," he began. "And you're my goddaughter. I think you're more than worthy enough for me to give you something that once belonged to your great aunt Dorea." To punctuate his sentence, Sirius brought out a small package which he handed to Raela.

In the thin gray velvet box lie a ebony velvet choker. The top and bottom half was a dark blue lace. A raven carved from onyx with an amethyst for the visible eye. But something was clutched by the black bird. The small teardrop gem sitting in a mithril setting of the corvid's beak sparkled with a black opal with splashes of radiant purple and indigo that reminded her of the nebulous scenes of the distant void beyond the skies on the clearest nights in August. To finish the masterpiece, the closing latch was a stylized lobster clasp hewn from possibly fourteen carat gold.

There were also matching earrings in the shape of a bird's skull which had dangling silver feathers flecked with rose gold. When put against her lobes, it automatically pierced them. She had given a little squeak of surprise.

Shaking her head, Raela gasped, "I-I cannot accept this Sirius. It's too much!"

Removing the accessory from it's prison, Sirius swept the girl's hair out of the way and clasped around her neck. At first it was a mite too big, but it seemed to magically resize to adapt to petite throat.

"I promised your dad that I would take care of you no matter what. And that means spoiling his little girl to make up for all the years I've been kept away from you. That is the Black family crest on it, because you are my heiress. I can't have kids due to long term exposure to dementors. So you're stuck with this old dog." He paused and stroked her hair. "Pup, look in the mirror for me, will you?"

Looking into the reflective surface of the silver looking glass, felt beautiful. The jeweled accessory fit so well with her svelte build, giving her an extremely delicate appearance. She was certainly looking like a proper lady.

Tears threatened to spill from her eyes as Raela jumped into her godfather's arms. She cried as she clung to him, "Thank you dad! This means so much to me!"

Said man's own heart soared when the witch in his arms had unintentionally called him her father. And he had no reason to correct her. He simply smiled and held her.

* * *

 **A/N: There ya go, the first chapter done!**

 **PS: Who should I pair Raela with? I'm thinking Fleur? Perhaps someone else?**


	3. Chapter II

**A/N: Thanks for the favorites and follows everyone!**

 **P.S. I'm not sure if I'll continue writing Salazar's Legacy or put it up for adoption. I've run into a snag and I'm not quite sure I can write around it.**

 **Anyways, enjoy another installment of Hell's Princess**

* * *

 _ **Chapter II**_

"Daaaad!" yelled Raela from the bottom of the stairs, hands around her mouth in a manner to amplify her voice but not loud enough wake up Walburga's portrait. She could be a right witch when those ugly curtains flew open.

Sirius immediately responded to the cry for help, bowing to Buckbeak and leaving the attic. He proceeded to race down from the highest landing, leaping down three or four steps at a time until he messed up his footing and tumbled into a heap at his daughter's feet.

Giggling, the metamorphic witch said as she nudged his side with a hard foot, "That was careless you dumb dog. You didn't need to fall flat on your ass. And here I thought you were an intelligent man. Oh well, I guess even I can be wrong sometimes."

Climbing to his feet, the middle aged wizard huffed, "I was worried you'd gotten caught in one of the old family traps. So sue me for caring about my little girl. Little brat."

Raela rolled her eyes as she snickered, "No you mangy mutt. I'm having problems casting magic with my wand. The one I got before my first year is acting up. The holly and phoenix feather is being super temperamental, like it's sticking its tongue out at me. Worse, my wand is fighting against the the whole time I'm trying to cast a spell. Even the mage light spell!" She whipped out her wand and muttered ' _lumos'_ as she made the correct wand motion. For a moment, nothing happened until she hissed it again and a weak light glowed at the tip of the wooden wand. "See?!"

"Well," he sighed. "That's not a good sign. It means your wand is not a match for the new you. It's worse to have a wand that fights you all the way than one that's only par. We are going to Gringotts anyways, so I suppose we stop by the rest of Diagon Alley. Get you a new wand and do some early school shopping."

A spark ignited in the metamorph's eyes, "Sooo...we could totally go on a shopping spree? Buy me a whole new wardrobe since I'm a lady now. Oh Merlin, I can totally make Hermione jealous with a whole new look! That'd be absolutely fabulous!"

Sirius' face paled considerably. "I...uh...um..." He started sweating profusely. A moment passed before he swallowed and groaned, "Fiiiiiiiiiine!"

Giggling in a rather girlish manner, Raela squealed and hugged her father, "Oh thank you daddy!" The young witch then ran to her room, giggling madly.

Shaking his head, the Marauder muttered under his breath, "I am so going to regret this."

* * *

Early the next morning, Raela woke fairly early. The sun had barely risen by the time she had gotten out of the shower and dressed herself. It was habit at this point because of the slave treatment she had suffered at the Dursleys.

Kreacher had reluctantly made them breakfast: scrambled eggs, an english muffin, two sausage links and a slice of bacon. Despite how unagreeable he was as a being, the filthy elf still knew how to cook. She had a glass of milk and a small cup of orange juice while Sirius had helped himself to four cups of coffee as black as his name.

Most of the morning meal was eaten in silence. It was clear that neither of them were really morning people. But they did need to be up early for the busy day ahead of them. The most they had exchanged had been a variations of 'good morning', 'pass the salt' and 'touch my eggs and I'll stab you in the eye with this butter knife', the latter coming from Raela.

An hour after both had eaten, Sirius and Raela were ready to continue with the day. They walked briskly into the foyer. There was a fireplace on either side of the grand staircase. One for incoming guests and one for outgoing. They moved to the latter one.

"You know how to use floo powder, right?"

Rolling her eyes, the witch retorted, "Don't be a prick, dad. Of course I know how to floo. Just because I was raised by muggles for the first eleven years of my life, doesn't mean I'm an ignorant fool." Nearly inaudible, Raela murmured, "I learned when I was twelve..."

Chuckling, Sirius said as he activated a runestone based glamor, "Hey hey, no need to get feisty, 'Rae. You know I'm just teasing. Sheesh."

Said woman rolled her eyes and threw her pinch into the large fireplace meant for travel and stepped in.

* * *

Raela tumbled out of the hearth at the familiar pub that stood entrance to the Wizarding World. It seemed to matter little to the gods of time and fate or the nymphs of life and creation. She was still absolutely horrible at taking the floo. She dusted her arse off and climbed out before her godfather could trip over her.

Both Andromeda and Nymphadora were both waiting just inside for them. They spoke very little since it was known to the group that there was much to do that day. Tom, the bartender gave a gentle hello as they came near the counter. He inquired if they needed anything but the disguised Sirius told the squib they were just passing through for the moment. They exited out the back of the Leaky Cauldron and proceeded past the brick wall entrance and entered Diagon Alley.

The white marble building that was Gringotts seemed to loom over her more than she remembered. It was a bulwark and a fortress compared to the surrounding structures. The gilded words that had struck her scared when she was eleven were still there:

 _Enter, stranger, but take heed_

 _Of what awaits the sin of greed_

 _For those who take, but do not earn,_

 _Must pay most dearly in their turn._

 _So if you seek beneath our floors_

 _A treasure that was never yours,_

 _Thief, you have been warned, beware_

 _Of finding more than treasure there._

The Black wizard grabbed his goddaughter's hand and they walked up to the bank. Both the armed guards standing outside sneered as the humans walked passed them. Raela knew they were just being intimidating because it was their job.

Once inside, the group marched right up to the nearest free counter. The goblin teller had an irritated sneer at being disturbed from his work. Glaring down at the humans from his stool, he asked, "What do you want?"

"My goddaughter needs an inheritance test," Sirius said quietly, trying not to attract the attention of the everyday clientele. "She has Black blood and something else. We need to know what."

In a gruff voice, the goblin barked, "Grubfoot!" A scrawny goblin scrambled out of an alcove and attentively looked up at the teller.

"Y-yes?"

Spitting at the runt, the first goblin ordered, "Take this group of humans to the Black Vault manager on sub level three. NOW, you useless maggot!"

The smaller goblin known as Grubfoot whimpered but nodded. He mumbled a 'yes master' and began to lead the three witches and one wizard towards a lift further inside the bank. They were ushered inside and a stuttered 'please wait' was issued.

A low grinding noise grew a bit louder before the lift began to plummet. Everyone except the two metamorphs grabbed onto a secured surface, screaming in terror. Raela and Tonks just stared at each other, laughing at Andromeda and Sirius.

Once the drop into the 'pit of death' as Sirius was muttering about ended with a sudden halt, the gate slid open. The two older mages nearly face planted into the hard ground; only their stumbles were caught by the two metamorphs as they were lead down a short corridor and stopped at a pair of solid gold doors. Runes of Garuk-de-Rak embossed in onyx were inscribed upon the door.

Being the brave one of the group, Raela pushed open the ornate doors. Somehow the creak and grinding of metal on stone was absent as the gateway swung inward. Just inside, the humans found what looked more like a study than an actual office.

Sitting behind a mahogany desk was a middle aged goblin. The plaque read the name: 'Scale-Ripper'. The room remained in silence until the goblin spoke. "So, what do you want from me today, Lord Black," asked the goblin as his hands steepled together.

Taking the runestone necklace off from around his neck, Sirius said as he returned to his normal appearance, "You were always a sharp one, Scale-Ripper. Hehe, can't fool an old man like you, huh?" He slicks back his hair with a hand and answers the given inquiry, "Well, my daughter here needs an inheritance test to see what she has in her bloodline that's giving her strange powers. And I suppose it'd be nice to see which of my one night stands resulted in that bundle of joy."

Pulling out a serrated kris from a drawer and an crude stone bowl that had a balled up piece of parchment in the center, the wrinkled creature said, "Very well. You do know there's a fee for such a ritual?"

With a sigh, the Marauder replied, "Yeah, I know. And you're going to extort, embezzle or wrench me over the top for this, aren't you?"

With a savage little chuckle, the aged goblin smirked, "Oh certainly, my good wizard. It's not like you can't afford to shell out the extra twelve percent. We'll take it directly out of your vaults later today. But don't worry, we won't take too much..." Turning to the youngest member of the group, the short creature smiled savagely and commanded, "Give me you arm."

Obediently, Raela held out her arm which the goblin grabbed roughly. He brought the bladed edge of the knife swiftly across the metamorph's wrist. The surgical strike opened a thin wound that caused her to gasp and whimper at the sudden pain. The other humans in the room were about to protest when the goblin held the bleeding hand over the bowl. Everyone was expecting crimson lifeblood to spill out; instead, a viscous purple hued liquid drained from her veins. The accountant shoved the witch's hand away so he could tip an ebon tincture of some kind into the bowl that looked suspiciously like common ink.

"That was entirely unnecessary," growled Sirius as his gray eye became daggers midst his murderous glare. "You and I both know only a single drop of blood is needed for an inheritance ritual. You're just being bloodthirsty."

With a snort, Scale-Ripper retorted, "Tch, you fool. _**IF**_ she were human that is. You humans have a weak magic in the blood. Your 'daughter' certainly isn't. There is so much magic in her blood that I could smell it the moment she walked into Gringotts. But I won't deny I wasn't entertained with seeing so much blood."

As she let go of her wrist, Raela found that the wound had sealed up on it's own. "Does the dagger normally heal whatever it cuts?"

Bursting into laughter, the Black Account Manager laughed for almost a minute before answering, "Hell no. It's pretty much an ordinary goblin forged dagger. Nothing enchanted for sure. It's you, ya silly girl. Here, I think this will explain." Pulling the wrinkled ball of parchment from the ink and blood cocktail, he set it on the desk facing the group. It slowly uncurled and flattened itself in a matter of seconds so it was now very legible in a deep violet ink.

 _Birth Name: Hadrian James Potter_

 _Current name: Undecided_

 _Sex: Flexible - Currently Female_

 _Species: Fae - Human_

 _Subrace: Drow Elf_

 _Abilities: Metamorphmagus, Parselmouth._

 _Potential to be: Animagus, empath, Sorceress, Summoner_

 _Parentage: James Potter - Lily Evans-Potter(?) / Unregistered female of unknown origin_

 _Nobility: Heiress to the Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter, Heiress to the Ancient and Most Noble House of Slytherin Via Conquest, Heiress of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black_

 _Princess of the Fae_

Raela blinked as she read this. After what seemed like fifteen uncomfortable minutes (five in reality) had passed, whispered, "I'm...an elf? I... you... why... You can't be fucking serious!"

"Of course not. I'm Sirius," grinned the thin marauder, causing the women around him to groan. Raela was almost certain that the goblin present had even cracked the barest hint of a smile. Said half elf just smacked her forehead against the table out of exasperation.

"So let me get this straight: I am the only person alive who has ever survived the killing curse, first to survive being poisoned by a thousand year old basilisk," she paused a moment to let that sink in before continuing, "A Defense Against the Dark Arts prodigy who can do the patronus charm -an incredibly difficult charm even adults struggle with- at 13 and then proceed to use a corporeal patronus to defend against a HUNDRED starving dementors to save my idiot godfather's life. All that while being an elven metamorphmagus with fae heritage who can speak to snakes. What other stupid thing is going to make me even more of a special snowflake so people can put me on an even higher pedestal?"

The parchment cleared its original text and replaced with: _But of course, Queen Raela, Heiress of Worcestershire, Princess of Bunnies and all that is cute._

"REALLY? Even the magic paper is condescending me now? UGH! I swear, if there's anything else, just lay it out for me!"

While everyone was laughing, even the chuckling goblins, there was a little _pop_ and a twinge from the grumbling metamorph. Then the laughter just increased.

"Now that's just downright adorable," cooed Dora as she tried in vain to contain herself.

Irritated, Raela snapped as she rested her hands on her hips in a most sassy fashion, "Now what?"

Still giggling, Nym pinched her cousin's elfin ears, "Look, Rae. You've got adorable little elf ears!" The mirror conjured for her revealed that she indeed, had pointed ears. It also showed her skin tone rapidly darkening to a dark bluish-gray pigment that quickly spread all over her body. The sclera of her eyes had turned black while her irises bled from their current golden hue to a bloody crimson.

"This is common. Newborn drow elves tend to start with smallish to medium sized ears. They'll grow some in the next few days. Since you're an adolescent, it shouldn't be long. Oh and your hair will grow quite quickly as a precursor warning." A little bit quieter, the goblin muttered, "I see now what the fairy queen was planning when she told us she had an heiress..."

Rae heard the mutter and asked, "What was that?"

"You're officially the richest woman in all of Europe," smirked the goblin. "And possibly the world. I'd need to consult with the other branches..."

With a sigh, Raela groaned, "Sorry I asked." Under her breath, she muttered, "I swear I'm going to murder everyone in this room if they so much as giggle at me again."

"Onto the next order of business," coughed the goblin, having caught the threat the elf had murmured. He wholeheartedly believed she was dangerous even as young as she was. "I am under the impression that you all wish to hear the will of James and Lily Potter's will?"

Sirius nodded softly and grimly. "That would be for the best. I want to know why my...d er goddaughter ended up in the care for muggles who have shit for brains instead of a loving wizarding family since I was in Azkaban."

"I already knew she was Harry Potter when she walked in. Don't bother keeping up with such a silly charade. Your personal information is safe here. But whatever." With a shrug, the goblin began to recite from the first of four pages of parchment:

 _I, James Charlus Fleamont Potter -_ _And I, Lily Isabella Potter nee Evans_

 _Do so solemnly swear we are of sound mind here do record our final will and testament._

 _ **Albus Percival Brian Wulfric Dumbledore, Order of Merlin First Class, Head Warlock of the Wizengamot as witness.**_

 _If you are reading this my beloved child, then your mother and I did not make it. I hope you grew up in the care of Sirius Orion Black and Remus John Lupin. In the case they are unable or indisposed, Harry will be fostered by Frank & Alice Longbottom. And again if they are unable to care for my baby, Amelia Lissandra Bones will be our child's guardian._

 _IN NO CIRCUMSTANCES EVER, SHOULD YOU BE PLACED WITH MY MAGIC HATING BITCH OF A SISTER. Petunia Dursley is unfit to care for my baby, let alone her own child._

 _To our beloved and most treasured Harry,_

 _We leave the entirety of the Potter vaults to you_

 _If the cottage in Godric's Hollow still stands, it is yours_

 _Little known fact, is that we have a hidden manor in west France called 'Château de Luxure'. It's uh... sort of our vacation home. Blame your great great grandfather for that name._

 _Hopefully, the Potter Manor in South Wales is still standing._

 _And for everything else we own, we humbly bequeath to you._

 _To Sirius Black_

 _We hope you will take good care of our son. Take 100 galleons a month from the trust vault to help pay for Harry's schooling. I know the Blacks are already pretty rich, but we want to make sure Harry grows up loved and adored by those we trust._

 _To R.J Lupin,_

 _Sorry we accused you of being untrustworthy. In the end, it looks like Peter was the one we should have never trusted. He is the entire reason we were murdered. We invested in a lifetime membership to Madam Malkin's so you will always have nice robes. So stop wearing such ragged clothes. (Sirius, show a copy of this will to Remus to show we aren't pranking him)._

 _We love you and we wish the best for our legacy._

 _This is Lily. James wasn't allowed to see this last part here since he's still in the dark about your true heritage. By now sweetie, you'll have realized you're fae. But I don't think you're ready just yet to know who your other momma is. If you haven't had it happen yet, you'll need to know that you're a girl even though you were born. Most fae have shifting genders depending on a whim. I have learned some just tend to stick to one. It's up to you dear, but know that I know you'll be either the most beautiful girl or the handsomest boy. Whatever you choose, I approve. That's all I have for now honey. You can do anything you set your mind to._

Unconsciously, tears began cascading down her dark cheeks. In seconds,she was openly bawling tears of happiness to hear in her parents own words that they loved her and that she meant everything to them. Andromeda ended up loaning a handkerchief to the elven girl.

The goblin sighed. "Is there anything else, that I can assist you with today?"

The drow elf nodded once she composed herself, "Of course. I would like to officially change my name from Hadrian James Potter to Raela Lilith Black. And to also combine the Potter Vaults in their entirety with the Black's Fortune. Since I'm the mutts daughter now, the Potters don't really exist anymore. Just history these day. Gone but not forgotten. I would also like to invest five thousand galleons to erect a proper monument of my parent's sacrifice. Oh and Scale-Ripper, you better not dip your greedy claws any deeper than we're allowing. Or I'll march my blue ass right in here and I will take your balls as trophies. Understood?"

Both Andromeda, Nymphadora and Sirius were floored with the young witch's overwhelming generosity and savagery in the same breath. No one person had ever had the idea to merge two ancient and noble houses to one. And if they did, it had been a fleeting thought at best. But the last Potter was making it a reality.

The rest of the time they spent in that office was dedicated more to paperwork than anything. It was the first step of many to changing the waking wizarding world with Raela at the helm.

* * *

Once their business in Gringotts Wizarding Bank had concluded, the group exited on good terms. Everyone except Raela was relieved to see the sun once more. The dark elf just grimaced at the offensive sunlight.

Now out in the open, the young drow could feel the amalgamated gaze of Diagon Alley's populace on her. She could hardly blame them for seeing someone new and more exotic than they were used to. Once the staring abated for the most part, the whispers began.

It didn't take a genius or even a half brilliant person to know that the gossip whirling around the plaza was centered around one subject: Raela. Her sharp elfin ears easily picked up generic questions like; who is she, what is that lady, where did she come from and 'aren't elves extinct?'

Upon opening the door to Ollivander's Fine Wands, they small group was hit with a wave of musty and stale air. The front shop was empty, sporting a few misplaced boxes. Other than that, it was nearly identical to the day she'd come here on her eleventh birthday.

"My my, I didn't think you'd return so shortly," came that soft, bookish voice she knew was Ollivander. But it didn't stop her from jumping a foot into the air.

"Merlin you scared me old man," huffed Raela, holding a hand over her heart. While startled, she'd forgotten her lessons and accidentally allowed her hair to turn red out of embarrassment. "Can you not do that?"

With a light chuckle, the old wizard replied, "Ah, but what's the fun in not catching youngsters unaware?" He laughed a bit more at his rhetoric before asking, "Now what can I do for you this fine day, Miss Potter? Or is it Black these days?"

It was unnerving how a simple wandmaker knew who she was without much scrutiny. "The wand you sold me when I was eleven is refusing to work for me. Every time I try to cast, it just fights me. So I think I might just need a new wand."

Another creepy chuckle came from the artisans throat as he said, "That my dear is because you're using a wand meant for a witch or wizard. As a faery, phoenix feather and dragon heartstring aren't compatible. The flame certainly just isn't you, my dear."

"How do you know what I am?"

Rolling his odd silvery eyes, he replied, "Well your ears are a dead giveaway to someone who remembers who the fae were since before humankind banished them from interacting with them. A fine specimen of a drow if I say so myself. Now enough dilly dallying. We have to find you a new wand." He shuffled over to one of the aisles and brought back a few boxes. Opening the first one on the stack, he mused, "Aspen and Unicorn mane hair, freely given. Give it a try."

Nodding, the young elfin woman took the offered sliver of wood and gave it an arcing swish. That ended with one of the windows shattering. Andromeda fixed it as Raela quickly put down the wand.

Tsking, Ollivander mumbled, "Looks like unicorn hair is checked off. Thinning down the combinations early I see." He skipped over the other four in the stack and gave the elf a wand from the bottom. "Try this one. Thunderbird feather and Rosewood."

As soon as she had given it a wave, the magical focus crackled and turned to dust in a matter of seconds. Raela immediately apologized, "I'm so sorry! I didn't think it was going to do that!"

He shook his head. "It was a hopeful guess at best. Thunderbirds are very temperamental creatures, not unlike the fae. Do not worry, you will not have to pay for it's replacement. I gambled on a match and lost. Let's carry on to find you a partner."

The same cycle happened just as bad or worse than it had happened a little over three years ago. The young metamorph and her party were getting more and more ansty with every wand that she tried only for the wandmaker to quickly snatch it away. More than one had she accidentally cast a hex, curse or charm that ricocheted off the window only to hit one of the adults. Between trying not to laugh as Sirius' hair turned pink or Aunt Andy growing a big bushy mustache, more and more wands turned out to be failures. That was until the shop owner spoke out once more.

"I think, I have just one more wand for you to try, miss," muttered Carrick as he hustled into the back of his workshop in a surprisingly quick manner for someone his age. Five minutes passed before the ancient wandmaker returned to the group with a very old box in his spindly hands. He proffered it to Raela.

"What's this?"

As the elf slid open the box, the old wizard answered, "By far, that wand has been in this shop for the longest. My ancestor crafted this at the end of his career and holds the longest record of a wand rejecting all attempts to choose someone. And for that, we call it the Wand of the Praesul. Twelve inches, acromantula fang with a promethium core. It's a strange magical sliver from a lost artifact that existed since the dawn of man. I can't say what it's made of or where my ancestor acquired it. But it's the last focus I can offer."

Unlike most wands she had seen before, this one was not straight. It was naturally curved like a dagger without a sharpened blade. It had an elaborate leather grip that would probably make it hard to disarm her. There was a faint shadowy aura pulsating from inside the wand with strange purple particles that would vanish when they grew too distant from the magical tool. The rest was bone white with a few black spider webbing patterns.

Slowly grasping the polished fang, the inhuman with lifted it to find it had a little more weight than the holly and phoenix feather she had originally been paired with. The moment she made a small swish, the young lady in question could feel a warmth spread up her arms and her fingers tingle with the sheer power funneling into her. The spell she had attempted to cast with it was a simple first year cutting curse. It had been so powerful that it had caused an entire shelf to collapse from the severed supports. Raela looked at it in wonder as she peered at the wand that had chosen her out of almost a thousand.

Slowly, she asked, "What do I owe you?"

He smiled. "It's priceless considering it has never chosen a single soul until now. And merely seeing you bond with it near instantaneously was more than enough payment for my old bones. But I suppose I can part with it in exchange for your first wand. Does that sound fair to you?"

Unsheathing the wand that was essentially dead to her, Raela replied, "Of course, sir. Here." He accepted it and dismissed the party with an idle handwave.

Shaking her head in disbelief, Andromeda said, "Goodness gracious young lady. You don't do things by half, do you?"

The drow simply smirked. Carrick knew she was destined for something great. He just didn't want any spoilers.

* * *

To end the trip to Diagon Alley, Raela wandered into a rival clothing store called Twilfitt and Tattings. The white sign on the side of the brick building read ' _ **Luxurious Clothing for Witches'.**_ Below that was a plaque that said ' _ **located in Diagon Alley - ETS 1691'**_. Curious, she stepped in.

"How can I help you, young lady?" An exceptionally busty witch appeared from the back room. Raela didn't jump though at the sudden question.

With a smile, she replied, "I seem to have grown out of my third year uniform. Could you be a dear and measure me for a replacement? And while you're at it, I'd like a few casual robes and two formal pairs."

"What material would you like?"

Raela snorted, "What do you offer here? For the last three years, I went to Madam Malkin's but she only offered linen, wool and rougher materials. They aren't very comfortable."

With a smile, the woman replied, "Here, we have quite a variety fabrics and leather to choose from. Never anything so barbaric as cotton! You name it, we have it. Our finer selection is a bit pricier than the others we sell but the quality is never so diminished. Tell me darling, what would you like me to craft for you tonight?"

Raela gave a brief moment of consideration before answering, "Mm, I think I'll go with acromantula silk for my school robes, Chinese silk for my summer robes and dragon leather skirts with alternating silk tops. I'll take a pair of furred worg hide for the winter and erumpent leather for fall and spring. If you can manage, I'd like a few muggle themed outfits so I can blend in for my excursions."

Andromeda spoke up as the seamstress began to measure the young witch, "Oh yes, we'll also need permanent consistency charms on all her clothes. She's a metamorphmagus you see. She'll need the clothes to be breathable and room to grow or shrink. Might as well add a temperature regulation charm as well so she doesn't overheat in the summer or freeze in the winter."

The hostess fitting Raela nodded, "Very well. There is a fee for such extra enchantments."

The Black family left Diagon Alley 700 galleons poorer, not including the sale of what they had spent on the familiar that now bonded to the youngest witch or the fees the goblins had incurred for their services.

* * *

When they had gotten back to Grimmauld Place, and Sirius saw that the mail had already arrived. A copy of the Daily Prophet was clutched in an owl's talons. She gave the owl a knut and a treat before it was on its way. The front page article had a photo of her from earlier that morning with some speculations about who the strange woman was that nobody recognized. Internally, she felt proud that she wasn't recognized by the mass usually trying to catch her attention. The young elf moved onto the next piece of mail.

Raela's heart sank when she saw the letter addressed to her as The-Boy-Who-Lived. Her eyes welled with salty tears and gave a strangled whimper. She was burgeoning with despair in those lipid emerald pools that threatened to burst.

Sirius gently took the letter from his daughter and scanned it briefly to discover the cause of the currently redhead's distress. It was quickly spotted and she took a piece of parchment as she said, "Don't worry sweetie, I'll clear this up with the Headmaster and Deputy Headmistress. You are a girl and only you can choose to be who you want be."

Biting her lip, Raela slowly said, "I don't think I want to go to Hogwarts anymore."

"Why's that? Your mom and dad went for all seven years," her godfather asked, attempting to defend the school he had attended.

"Because I don't feel safe there, dad. You remember what happened like five weeks ago when I freed you from being kissed by the dementors. Second year, there was a fucking basilisk. I still don't even know how I survived that! My first ever year, I was stalked by a man possessed by Voldemort's wraith. Might I add, tried to curse me on more than two occasions. Every single year I've attended, I've been in mortal peril!"

Lofting a brow, Sirius asked, "Mortal Peril? Since when do you use such archaic terms?"

"I've been reading a lot since I got here. Anyway, that's not the point," she huffed. "I'm sick of fighting against slim odds just so I can take a tough exam at the end of the year. I just wanna be normal."

"Lily and Prongs paid your tuition for Hogwarts since the day you were born. There's no pulling out now.

Still feeling down, Raela decided to barricade herself in the Black Family Library. Much to their chagrin, neither Andromeda or Sirius could get her to come out, even for dinner. It wouldn't be until late at night would the drow tire herself out and pass out on a stack of books.

* * *

Minerva had become rather distressed once she'd read the most peculiar letter which arrived earlier that morning by a very snowy owl. A familiar owl she knew belonged to Harry Potter. A feeling of dread rose from the pit of her stomach. There was news she was probably not going to like...

* * *

 _ **A/N: As you can see, I like elves and I like Harry potter. So I combined them.**_

 _ **I'm still not entirely sure who I want Raela paired up with. Like, I like Fleur a lot but Nymphadora would also work out really well. Or we could totally go in an entirely different direction and go for an OC. What do you folks think, eh?**_


	4. Chapter III

_**A/N: First off, sorry it took so long to get this out. Been struggling with depression for awhile. It never goes away, it doesn't have a cure; only distractions and sometimes it can't be distracted. Ugh sorry, I'm ranting again.**_

 _ **Anyways. Thanks for all the lovely feedback thus far. It seems like a resounding agreement to pair Raela with Fleur is nearly unanimous. It will probably happen.**_

 _ **In this chapter, we're finally getting back to Hogwarts. Let us see how it panzers out from here...**_

* * *

 _ **Chapter III**_

The rest of summer was spent learning how to be a woman from not only Mrs Tonks, but surprisingly the stern but womanly Amelia Bones. The older witch had gotten quite the surprise at seeing a real elf, but had grown fond of her rather quickly.

Andromeda taught her the not so fun parts of being a woman, both witch and muggle means. Learning about the menstrual cycle she would be starting in a month was no less than utterly terrifying. The knowledge of womanhood paired with graphic diagrams had nearly caused her to , there were potions and similar products witches could purchase to ease the cramps and mess of periods. But since hadn't been taught the birds and the bees by anyone, she at the very least, could appreciate the sentiment.

Raela learned proper conduct & deportment from Amelia. The head of the DMLE taught her things the young metamorph would have never expected from such a serious woman. The normally conservative appearing Ministry worker had opened an entire world of fashion to the elf, specifically what was acceptable for a woman her age to wear and what society deemed more than inappropriate. Since she knew of nothing being raised by the Dursleys, Raela was extremely appreciative for the time the woman took out of her days to teach her.

Her lessons on controlling her metamorphmagus abilities continued every other day or whenever Tonks had a few hours to spare. Through the summer months, the two eccentric witches had grown to be close friends. On some occasions, the elfin witch would stay at Tonk's flat for some of the more personal shifting lessons. And because of those awkward times, they grew incredibly close. More than she had ever been to Hermione or Ron.

Another branch of magic she picked up was Ancient Runes; she had occasionally peeked over Hermione's shoulder when said bookworm was reading ahead in said subject and had found herself interested. Since the start of the summer, Raela now had a basic understanding of the runic alphabet as well as the effects of inverting runes. Sigils was the term used to identify a group of runes which when joined by lines made a stave. By the time the school year begins, she reckoned that she would be able to catch up with missing out on a whole year thanks her accelerated pace.

Because she was the heiress of and Ancient and Noble family with no heir presumptive, Raela was in turn, forced to study up on the Pureblood laws and etiquettes such as greetings, the proper way to write letters and the sort of prim and proper things she was hardly interested in but was still necessary for an heiress like her. Even if she hated it with the fiery passion of a thousand suns; despite tackiness and clicheness of the line.

And between books in the library she had read and attempted training sessions, Raela had begun to learn occlumency. The reason she tried so hard to master it was because she had a funny feeling that the headmaster might try to poke around in her head when she returned to Hogwarts. She also theorized that he had been using passive legilimency on everyone. That's how she believed the grandfatherly old man always seemed to know if someone was being untruthful by omission or otherwise. When she told Sirius, the Marauder wasn't pleased and took to helping his daughter organize and protect her mind. He didn't know a whole lot more than his daughter, so it was more of the two of them learning a skill together. The plethora of questionable or downright dark content in the family library had been a huge help to the both of them. She was coming along well, but she couldn't block an active probe yet. At best, she could prevent her surface thoughts from being skimmed. It had been both a trying experience that had caused her much embarrassment and a series of bonding moments. The more she participated with the auror, Marauder and the healer, Raela felt she could trust them.

Speaking of the Tonks family, Ted and Andromeda had moved back into the manor, having quickly uprooted from their small townhouse in the span of a week. The rights to their old place had quickly been purchased by an old muggle couple. Even 'Don't call me Nymphadora' had sold her flat for a free room at the Black Manor and by proxy, giving Raela an older sister. It warmed the elf's heart to gain a real family despite how dysfunctional it appeared to be. It was better than living with the Dursleys by a hundred or even a thousandfold.

The once droll and dreary malaise that had once held reign over the manor disappeared rather quickly the more lively the place became. Probably because the number of inhabitants had grown by a few. Often during dinnertime, the two metamorphmagus would have a competition to see who could make the rest of the table laugh first. Sometimes, Raela would win when she gave herself a vampire bat's spaded nose and big bat ears. That one always got Andromeda giggling much to said healer's chagrin. Dora sometimes won with pig noses or duck beaks. It was a good start to enjoying life with a real family.

Ted had simply taken out a chunk of the wall that held that awful portrait of Sirius' mum. The old bat had a permanent sticking charm on her portrait and the only way to remove it was to wreck the whole wall. The family spent a day or two repainting the support. They had even put a new portrait up. It was of a trio of fairies sitting on a holly branch, gossiping who often giggled and pointed at Raela. Andromeda thought it would bring a cheery atmosphere to the otherwise daunting air the manor held. It worked for the most part, except when the painted fairies seemed to make it their purpose to embarrass and tease the young drow elf. Whenever it was just her walking by, the three would flash their petite breasts at her. In return, Raela would blush madly as the giggles would grow louder the more she flushed.

Through the summer days, the young metamorph had found an influx of letters from both Hermione and Ron; but since she had legally changed her name, the owls had been unable to deliver them to her. So the two tried sending them to Sirius. But she just ignored them. She would be better off not needing those two as friends. As much as she liked the bushy haired witch, she was just too bossy. And when it came to Ron, the redhead was the epitome of sloth: lazy and gluttonous. There was the fairweather aspect of the lanky wizard Raela detested most. She had figured their friendship had only happened because of her unwanted fame. Sirius had said it was her decision whether to let those two in on the secret or not. She had chosen the latter, opting for a fresh start. If they treated her just as nicely as when she had been the Boy-Who-Lived, she might give them a second chance.

As the July was coming closer to an end, Raela and Sirius went shopping for school supplies. During the remaining hours of the morning, the drow had purchased a new quill, expensive ink and a few crisp rolls of parchment. They broke for lunch in a private parlour at the Leaky Cauldron. After that, they brought something for Andromeda to munch on at work. She greatly appreciated the gesture and had given Raela a big smooch on the forehead. When they had left St Mungo's, the father and daughter duo moved onto the apothecary to restock on ingredients and new ones she'd need for the coming year. Since she already had plenty of robes, she skipped Madam Malkins. Which that meant the next stop was Flourish and Blotts to pick up the year's course assigned reading. Of course knowing her, Raela picked up some extra books. Those ranged between something involving fae and elves or defensive magic.

The more uncomfortable part of the summer was when Minerva McGonagall had stopped by Number 12 Grimmauld Place.

It had been midday when there was a knock on the front door. Andromeda had answered the door and invited the Scottish professor out of the rain. Said severe looking woman tapped her drenched umbrella on the threshold to rid it of excess water before tucking it into the ornamental stand meant for umbrellas and canes.

"Glad you could make it," said Sirius as he rounded the corner, wearing rather casual muggle threads that were reminiscent of the punk era. Raela had walked in with him, wearing a gothic lolita dress she had found in the back of Bellatrix's closet.

Minerva found herself a little surprised to find herself in the foyer of the Black Manor and even more surprised to see Mrs Tonks quite at home. But the moment she set eyes on Sirius Black, rage twisted her features as her hand immediately went to her robes and whipped out her wand.

But Raela was quicker, having preemptively suspected that her transfiguration professor might attempt something and cast a whispered disarming spell. When the magical stick flew into the air, the drow snatched and pocketed it.

"Sorry Professor, but I can't let you hurt my dad," said the witch in a matter of factly tone, practically imitating Hermione when she got bossy. "He's just too important to me to let you drag him off to the Ministry. I lost him since I was a baby and I only got him back a few months ago."

Gaping, the elder woman looked to the elf and then to the Marauder. Her head swished back and forth between the two before she finally said, "I don't understand! You betrayed James and Lily to You-Know-Who. How could a murderer like you have a daughter?"

"Ah, well let me explain," began the man Raela called father. The severe woman was lead into the dining room so they could sit as they talked. The Dogfather and Andromeda took turns elaborating the messed up tale about how it had really been Peter Pettigrew who'd taken them all for a loop. That the rat framed Sirius for blowing up the thirteen muggles and faked his own death. They made a small white lie, saying that the framed man had volunteered for a dose of veritaserum. They couldn't very well just say they had learned and used legilimency on each other.

"That still doesn't explain how this young woman featured in the Daily Prophet is your daughter. You never seemed like the type to settle down, let alone marry a dame," said Minerva finally after finding out that everything she knew about the incident was a lie.

Resting a hand on Raela's shoulder, Sirius replied, "I'm not married. And considering I'm technically still an Azkaban escapee, the dating pool is pretty slim right now."

"Would you be serious for one minute?" the elf said, smacking the back of the Marauder's head. "And don't you dare make a pun out of that!"

Cowed by his daughter, the dark haired wizard grumbled, "Fine, fine. You didn't have to hit me. Always ruining my fun." Raela glared at the man reproachfully with a 'I don't believe you' look. Standing straight, Sirius finally answered, "The birdy you see here, by rights is my goddaughter. That look your giving me says I'm lying, but I'm not. You see, Harry Potter is a metamorphmagus and they're standing right in front of you."

Minerva gasped in surprise.

Before the transfiguration teacher could interrupt, Sirius continued, "Her ability seems to outstrip even Dora's years of experience. So much that she can shift from male to female. Amazing, isn't it? But it gets better. Since Harry didn't want to be male anymore, they decided to just stay female. She took up the name Raela and became my daughter. Then when we went to Gringotts to get her name legally changed. During her inheritance ritual, it turns out she's not only a metamorph and a parselmouth, but she's also fae. A drow elf to be exact."

"...What."

"Welcome to the multi-headed dick hydra that is my life, Minnie," Raela said dryly followed by a taste of morbidity, "Where my mere existence is a super magnet for trouble and imminent death. And that nothing makes sense. Honestly, any single hour of normalcy is a blessing's respite unto me."

Said witch gave the elf a hard look for using that accursed nickname. "So where do you go from here? Will you go to a different school or will you self study?"

Answering instead, the Marauder said, "Raela will continue to attend Hogwarts as her tuition was paid before she was born. It's important that we abide by James and Lily's wishes for their child to attend seven years at the same school they graduated. What we need you to do for us is no small task. The headmaster has a book of all students who attend or did so in the past. Where it says Harry James Potter, you need to erase it and put Raela Elise Black. There's probably photos that also are in there. So just in case, you'll need to change the picture too. All this needs to be done flawlessly as to be undetected. If Dumbledore notices any tampering, he might start sniffing where that big fat nose of his isn't wanted."

With a sigh, Minerva said, "That's no easy task you're asking of me. I may be the Deputy Headmistress, but Albus still outstrips me in access and permissions to more sensitive documents. I'll see what I can do. In the meantime, reply to the annual letter as normal with your legal name. For this request, I hope you won't hold yourself back anymore. I mean it, young lady."

The drow elf's jaw dropped when she realized that McGonagall had known all along that she hadn't been trying her best in school intentionally. While it may have had been because of the Dursleys conditioning, she hadn't dropped that facade even after she found out she was magical.

"If that's all, I hope you all enjoy the rest of your day," came the woman's thick Scottish brogue as she retrieved her umbrella. "And keep yourselves out of trouble."

Sirius and Andromeda suddenly stopped and said, "Before you return to Hogwarts, we want you to swear on your magic that you will NOT tell anyone of Raela's true heritage. For all accounts and purposes with the goblins, she is Raela Elise Black. We're trying to let the whole 'chosen' one fade into history. Harry Potter will simply become a myth."

With pursed lips, McGonagall mused, "Ah, I see now why you don't want Albus in your business. I personally don't believe some of the stranger things he says and does in the name of the 'greater good'. I can certainly respect your wishes to live a normal life if your first three years are anything to go by. Oh and miss Black?"

Tilting her head, the elf replied, "Yes Professor?"

Minerva cracked the slightest smile, "I'd purchase some dress robes or a very formal dress for your fourth year at Hogwarts. Have a pleasant evening."

As her transfiguration professor left, Raela found herself a little more than confused. She hadn't needed anything fancy before. Her father just grinned stupidly despite her attempts to get him to talk. So she sulked.

* * *

On September 1st, Raela was accompanied to King's Cross with a Grim-like black dog that nearly reached her waist as well an auror and trainee auror Tonks as her guard. The moment she stepped out of the apparition site, many eyes of those around were on her. She understood why, but it didn't mean people had to goggle at her just because she was an exotic female of another race.

Sirius had attempted to be intimidating, curling a lip over a yellowed fang whenever someone got a little too near. Tonks had used her ability to become a rather tall woman with bubblegum pink hair styled like a punk rocker. The other auror, Raela didn't really know. His name was Shackle-something.

The elf didn't waste time standing around like many of the parents were doing. Raela had briefly hugged Nymph and given her father a chin scratch, telling them she'll miss them. She had chosen a compartment near the back of the train which was mostly preoccupied by sixth and seventh year students. But with one of the spells that she had learned in the Black family library, Raela had managed to keep unwanted attention away from her.

As she was getting settled, the compartment door opened much to the drow's confusion. In peeked none other than Hogwarts residential oddball, Luna Lovegood. Said girl gave a small smile and slipped in, bringing her trunk along with her.

"I'm glad to see you're in your true skin," came Luna's dreamy voice as she sat down. "You were so unhappy before, what with being famous and all. Can't really blame you for not wanting to always be in the spotlight. What do you go by now you're a female dark elf?"

Raela was stunned. Despite all the underhanded tactics and cunning she had used to bury Harry Potter's existence, this girl who was a little over a year younger had instantly seen through her improved visage. Blinking a few times, she could only gape. "How?"

Her baby blue eyes flitted over the top of her issue of the Quibbler briefly, "Since I saw your photo in the Daily Prophet, I knew you had come into your inheritance. Before, you always had nargles about your head and they've gone to someone else. You look so nice. A shame that your faery wings haven't grown in yet. What's your name, these days?"

"Raela..." mumbled the galaxy haired witch as she crossed her arms. "Raela Black. I hope I can trust you to not tell anyone who I used to be. And really, how did you just 'know' I have fae blood in me?"

"A little pixy informed me," the Ravenclaw replied mysteriously before returning to the bizarre magazine. Shaking her head, the elf just sighed. The blonde still made little sense anytime she spoke.

Once the brief conversation with Luna had concluded, the compartment door slid open once again. How do people keep finding her? This time, it revealed a dark skinned teen in the trademark green and silver Slytherin colors. Not school robes, but something a little more extravagant. It took the elf a few moments recall the identity of this witch. Then it came as the girl invited herself inside: Blaise Zabini. A fourth year as well.

"I find a mysteriously warded room at the back of the train and find an equally mysterious stranger. Not only is there a basic locking charm, a notice-me-not charm, but also two of the strangest girls I've ever seen. An oddball and a not so fair skinned elf," purred the witch leaning against the door frame. She stepped inside and put her trunk on the overhead rack.

Raela groaned. Fucking witches just keep popping into personal bubble. So much for having some peace and quiet. "So, what can I help you with?"

Grinning predatorily, Blaise squeezed past Raela and took the window seat much to the latter's dismay. Her elven ear gave a flick of annoyance. Once she had made herself at home, the Slytherin replied, "Well, everyone is just dying to know who the mysterious stranger that seems to have sprouted up overnight. Even the Prophet was vague, meaning I bet they didn't even manage to get an interview. That's pretty disappointing, well to any self-respecting reporter. So I thought it might be fun to look into it myself. Investigations are sometimes worth it and this time, my hunch was correct."

"You've seen me. You talked to me for a little while. Now, you can be on your way," the drow said haughtily.

With a soft chuckle, the Slytherin said as she twirled a curly lock of hair around her finger, "Frigid, how adorable. You're so very much like Daphne Greengrass. I wouldn't be surprised if you were secretly her sister if I didn't know better."

Glaring back at the black Italian, Raela hissed, "I am not adorable. I am a noble young heiress from a prominent family. If there was any adjective to describe my aesthetics, it would be-"

The exotic witch didn't have the time to finish her sentence when Blaise started touching and rubbing her elfin ears. It had been an inopportune moment to discover how sensitive her auditory organs were. The physical contact was enough to send a tingle down her spine. Raela was forced to bite her lower lip in order to stifle a moan.

"Bitch," the elf hissed under her breath, leaning away from the fingers trying to touch her long, tapered ear again. "You don't just touch someone's ears!" Zabini didn't give up easily until the drow threatened to hex her unless she kept her hands to herself. That immediately made the slytherin back off. Raela huffed at being teased and closed her eyes. Maybe she could catch up on her sleep for a bit.

* * *

The countryside now flying past the window was becoming wilder. The neat fields had gone. Now there were woods, twisting rivers, and dark green hills. Once Raela had woken from her nap, she realized she had fallen asleep atop of Blaise's lap or shoulder. She didn't know which, but she had found herself partially snuggled up on the taller woman's lap. Said girl had an arm around her waist.

Her bluish-grey cheeks flushed purple as her brain registered what she had unintentionally done. She muttered an apology and sat up immediately. The Slytherin simply snickered and gave the elf a wink as she pulled her arm back to her side.

Nobody came to bother them throughout the rest of the journey and when it got darker, they changed out of their clothes and into the school uniform. Raela tied and untied her ponytail, feeling nervous despite her earlier words. Blaise looked a little flushed too, but confident nonetheless, despite that they had been practically cuddling.

Raela peered out of the window. It was getting dark. She could see mountains and forests under a deep purple sky. The train did seem to be slowing down. Raela finally decided to leave her waist-length hair down as the train began to slow down and eventually came down to a stop. The three girls left the compartment together and jumped down onto the platform.

A tall, giant of a man with bushy black hair, small beetle black eyes and wild curly beard was looming above everyone at the very end of the platform. Hagrid was looking well this year. "First years, over here," he called. "First years."

Since she was technically a new student, Raela had to take the boat route with Hagrid who didn't even have a clue to who she was. And she was perfectly accepting that her identity remained a mystery. Her fame was something she was happy to be rid of.

Slipping and stumbling, they followed Hagrid down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. It was so dark on either side of them that Raela thought there must be thick trees there. Nobody spoke much.

"Ye' all get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."

There was a loud "Oooooh!"

The dark elf restrained herself from rolling her eyes at the googly eyed first years because she couldn't really blame them. Her own first look at the ancient castle had her in a similar state.

From narrow path they tread had opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers. Most of the structure was obscured by the cliff and trees.

"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Raela was tall enough to require a boat to herself even though a scared first year girl insisted on sitting in her lap. She patted the child's head reassuringly.

"Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself. "Right then - FORWARD!"

And the fleet of little vessels moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. The tiny boats rounded a point of land to show Hogwarts. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.

Huge, an enormous pile of dove gray stone, it's hundreds of windows filled with warm light, it's turrets raking the stars, it's pennants fluttering in the night air, massively magical, the castle perched atop a lakeside cliff. Harriet felt something, something wonderful, something like the feeling she had when her wand picked her. Magic filled her, warm in her heart, tingling in her fingers. Her first time coming here hadn't given her that reaction. Maybe she'd become more sensitive to magic since she had earned her fae heritage.

"Heads down!" yelled Hagrid as the first boats reached the cliff; they all bent their heads and the little boats carried them through a curtain of hanging moss that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle, until they reached a kind of underground harbor, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles.

Then they clambered up a passageway in the rock after Hagrid's lamp, coming out at last onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle. They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, oak front door. Hagrid raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.

* * *

Standing on the threshold was a brief moment. The door swung open at once. A tall, dark pepper-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. Minnie looked rather nice and professional Raela thought.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid in a way too proud tone.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here." She pulled the door wide. The entrance hall was so big you could have fit the whole of the Dursleys house in it and then some. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors. It was odd, swing this same sight again after four years.

They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Raela could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right -the rest of the school must already be here - but Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room." She paused for a moment before continuing: "The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours. The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

The elf had zoned out, having heard all of what Minerva was saying back in her first year. After a moment's pause, the transfiguration continued."I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly."

She left the chamber. Raela swallowed, not knowing what to expect in her second sorting. For all she knew, Slytherin awaited. A few soon to be students chatted with each other whilst they waited. She had no such intention and pretended to be interested in the rough hewn masonry. It seemed this was an older part of the school that she never really noticed before.

"Move along now," said a sharp voice, jolting Raela out of her daze. "The Sorting Ceremony is about to start." Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall. "Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first years, "and follow me."

As she began to follow the first years, Minerva whispered, "Hang back for a bit near the door, Ms Black. I'll be calling you last. Understood?"

"Yes ma'am," replied the elven woman, leaning comfortably against the stone wall. Some students had noticed her presence, but the majority were eying up the new arrivals. Those that had, were whispering quietly to their neighbors about the strange blue-grey skinned girl with the strange hair and pointed ears. Raela did her best to ignore it.

Just as it had happened in her first year, McGonagall brought out a little three-legged stool and placed the Sorting Hat atop of it. The unsorted first years stared at it. So did everyone else. For a moment, there was silence. Then a long tear near the brim opened wide like a mouth, and the hat erupted into song:

 _A thousand years or more ago,_

 _When I was newly sewn,_

 _There lived four wizards of renown,_

 _Whose names are still well known:_

 _Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor,_

 _Fair Ravenclaw, from glen,_

 _Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad,_

 _Shrewd Slytherin, from fin._

 _They shared a wish, a hope, a dream,_

 _They hatched a daring plan_

 _To educate young sorcerers_

 _Thus Hogwarts School began._

 _Now each of these four founders_

 _Formed their own house, for each_

 _Did value different virtues_

 _In the ones they had to teach._

 _By Gryffindor, the bravest were_

 _Prized far beyond the rest;_

 _For Ravenclaw, the cleverest_

 _Would always be the best;_

 _For Hufflepuff, hard workers were_

 _Most worthy of admission;_

 _And power-hungry Slytherin_

 _Loved those of great ambition._

 _While still alive they did divide_

 _Their favorites from the throng,_

 _Yet how to pick the worthy ones_

 _When they were dead and gone?_

 _'Twas Gryffindor who found the way,_

 _He whipped me off his head_

 _The founders put some brains in me_

 _So I could choose instead!_

 _Now slip me snug about your ears,_

 _I've never yet been wrong,_

 _I'll have a look inside your mind_

 _And tell where you belong!_

Professor McGonagall was now unrolling a large scroll of parchment. "When I call out your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool," she told the first years. "When the hat announces your House, you will go and sit at the appropriate table.

"Ackerley, Stewart!" A boy walked forward, visibly trembling from head to foot, picked up the Sorting Hat, put it on, and sat down on the stool.

"RAVENCLAW!" shouted the hat.

The young elf didn't really pay attention to the rest of the Sorting ceremony this time around. Sure she kept an ear out for familiar names. She did notice the subtle manner in which Dumbledore scanned the crowd, likely looking for the nonexistent Harry Potter. He could look but his search would be fruitless. Other than that, she zoned out while waiting for her turn. Fifteen minutes passed before her name was finally spoken.

"Raela Black?"

Said witch nodded mutely, gliding to the front of the Hall with near silent steps. Her elven grace was certainly nothing to balk at, especially since she wasn't really trying to impress anyone. Funny how that works.

Up in front of the whole school, she looked at the tiny stool and then back to McGonagall. The message conveyed by her inquisitive eyes was certainly relayed when the instructor rolled her eyes and pulled her wand out. Minerva muttered something incoherent as she transfigured the stool into an armchair. Satisfied, the elf took a seat while wearing a smug smirk.

As the sorting hat was lowered onto her head, the elf whispered, "Good to see you again, Hat of the Founders. Or do you prefer Sebastian?"

Chuckling into the witches mind, he replied, " _Ohoho, so the trickiest customer I ever sorted comes back and with her fae heritage in plain sight and no glamor to blight your beauty. What a bold statement you advertise. You certainly are putting me in quite the bind. I do hope you won't fight your destiny this time. Oh and this time around, I wouldn't advise to let Albus get a hold of you. He's been off his rocker for quite awhile."_

"I was in the same manner of thinking; I don't trust that old man. To be honest, I wanted to go to a different school this year, but dad was against me from going to Beauxbatons or that one all girls school in Japan. Well since you know me oh so well, I assume you want to put me in Slytherin this time," harrumphed the elf as she crossed her arms, her reply spoken silently to the telepathic Founder's Artifact. "And just because I killed a basilisk with Godric's blade. I'm still mad you hit me on the head with the sword when I was in the chamber..."

If a magical hat could shake his head, he certainly would have. " _No my dear. Last time I didn't know you were Fae. That changes things. A lot of things. For you see, a long time ago when other magical creatures were allowed to learn magic alongside humans, there was a House created for the most gifted of those who studied here. Morgana Le Fay was an apprentice to the four founders who created me. And she went above and beyond their expectations and made her an honorary founder. She received full rights so long as she lived and her own House to guide."_

"What does this have to do with me?" Raela asked.

The ancient hat smiled, " _You hold so much potential to do so much good in this world or bring it to its knees. You won't achieve that if you're held back by rivalries. A long time ago, Godric and Salazar used to be the best of friends. To the point they viewed each other as brothers. It's no secret that friendship no longers reflects in the houses today. It doesn't take a genius to see your run of the mill Slytherin and Gryffindor feuding. Haelga and Rowena had a sort of dispute between them in their later years. Incidentally, a Hufflepuff will always argue that hard work always trumps in which a Ravenclaw will usually rebuff. No, you'll do so much better in the hidden house of Le Fay."_

"Oh. Neat."

" _Wanna raise some hell?_ " the hat asks slyly.

Answering with her own question, Raela says, "Is the sky blue?"

Speaking aloud for all to hear Sebastian said, "I cannot in good conscious sort this lovely lady into any of the current Houses. For she terribly exceeds the requirements for each of them." He paused for a few moments as the room was filled with shock and the occasional gasp. "There are few time throughout the past twelve hundred year where I have been in contact with such exemplary individuals." He finished with a grand bellow, "RAELA BLACK BELONGS IN THE HOUSE OF LE FAY!" Upon that announcement, the four house tables were pushed a few feet to the left or right to make way for a small circular table rising from the stonework beneath their feet. The students sitting down had given a little shout of surprise at their tables shifted.

With her sharp elven ears, the young drow could hear the headmaster inhaling out of stress. He probably knew something about the hidden fifth house. Whether it was his doing to cover its existence or if previous headmasters had told him, Raela had a feeling the old wizard was not pleased. Regardless, she took her seat at a small round table. Though it had only one chair, it was a rather ornate chair as opposed to the benches normally around for feasts. A single goblet and table silver had appeared as she seated herself. A new banner fell from the ceiling to join those of the others. This one though, was a rich violet and sported a trio of ravens on a black and white spiderwebbed backdrop.

Up at the high table, Minerva could be seen dropping her head into her hands. Raela found herself more than a bit amused at the reactions she was getting. She smiled darkly at the headmaster, but not meeting the man's eye, letting him know he could continue.

Professor Dumbledore had gotten to his feet, somehow hiding his simmering rage behind a calm, grandfatherly look. He was smiling around at the students, his arms opened wide in welcome. "I have only two words to say to you," he told them, his deep voice echoing around the Hall. "Tuck in."

As always, the golden platters suddenly had food appear on them, a variety of English, Irish, Welsh and Scottish cuisine. A European buffet. Raela herself found it was all such heavy and greasy food even though she was raised on it for the last three years.

Throughout the feast, several students had come by to see the exotic woman in a House all by herself. The more polite ones introduced themselves to her and wished her a good year in her studies. Malfoy of course, had swaggered up to her as she was digging into a slice of key lime pie. He immediately launched into a tirade of why he was the strongest wizard with the purest blood and that she should feel honored he was offering her to become his concubine.

Raela in return had disguised a snort of disdain and 'accidentally' spilled the dregs of gravy from the abandoned plate. She pretended to apologize by using vague terms she knew the ponce didn't even have an idea of what they meant. A few of the nearby older students openly laughed. Draco had fumed and stomped off to the Slytherin table. Those nearby whom had the pleasure of spectating the scene snickered and even guffawed at the 'misfortune' that befell the blonde ponce.

At one point during the banquet, she heard a commotion over at the Gryffindor table. With her elven ears, she could pick up bits and pieces of what was going on. Apparently, Hermione Granger had just learned there were hundreds of House Elves working in Hogwarts and decided to go on a hunger labor? That's what she was upset about? Raela herself rolled her eyes, knowing the natures of the creatures better than the muggleborn.

When the puddings too had been demolished, and the last crumbs had faded off the plates, leaving them sparkling clean, Albus Dumbledore got to his feet again. The buzz of chatter filling the Hall ceased almost at once, so that only the howling wind and pounding rain could be heard.

"Now that our newest additions to the halls of Hogwarts, and that we've all been sufficiently fed and watered, I must once more ask for your attention while I give out a few announcements, then you may go to bed. First, I would like to introduce William Weasley, our wonderful new Defense the Dark Arts instructor. Gringotts has graciously rented him to us for the year. Please give him a hearty round of applause."

Raela's eyes darted to Ron's older brother. Bill was a tall, thin, handsome, and had red hair like the rest of the Weasley family. He wore it long and in a tight ponytail and had an earring with a fang dangling from it. His ginger goatee was sparse, but still visible and neatly trimmed. A healthy smattering of freckles He wore clothes that looked more at home at a rock concert than what a teacher would wear and then there were the brazen dragonhide boots.

Raising a hand, the new teacher said, "Yeah, please call me Professor Weasley or Bill. Whatever you're comfortable with. I look forward to imparting the knowledge I earned both studying here and during my career as an employee of Gringotts. I hope one of you will turn out to be a great duelist. Even better, if all of you became amazing Defense prodigies." He gave an awkward laugh and sat back down at the head table.

Once the clapping eventually slowed to nothingness, Dumbledore spoke some more. "Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office, if anybody would like to check it." The corners of Dumbledore's mouth twitched. He continued, "As ever, I would like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year.

"I am ashamed that it is my painful duty to inform all of you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not be taking place this year-"

This actually surprised the young elven witch to the point where she subtly glanced between her old teammate from gryffindor to the seekers from the other Houses. The appallment was visible on their gaping faces. The infamous Weasley twins interrupted with a loud pair of boos and jeers, "You can't do that!"

Patiently waiting for the die hard fans of the dominant sport of the UK to abate their clamor about the cancellation, Dumbledore hummed. Once the students had fallen silent once more, he continued, "This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy - but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts shall be playing host to the Triwizard Tournament!"

"YOU'RE JOKING!" gaped Fred loudly with his twin echoing him.

"I assure you, Messrs Weasley, this is no joke. Although I do remember a rather funny one about a vampire, a werewolf and a centaur walk into a bar..." Professor McGonagall nudged Dumbledore before he could go further off track. He quietly cleared his throat and proceeded, "Assuredly, the Ministry of Magic has been working hard for quite some time to organize such an extraordinary event.

"The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities - until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued."

There were a few whispers in the crowd of students, but it was quickly hushed by a stern glare from McGonagall.

"There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the tournament," Dumbledore continued, "none of which has been very successful. However, our own departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger. "The heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their short-listed contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will take place at Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money."

At every House table, Raela could see people either gazing raptly at Dumbledore, or else whispering fervently to their neighbors. She had even caught the Weasley twins saying that they were so going to enter. But then Dumbledore spoke again, and the Hall quieted once more.

"Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts," he intoned, "the heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age - that is to say, seventeen years or older - will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration. This" - Dumbledore raised his voice slightly, for several people had made noises of outrage at these words, and the Weasley twins were suddenly looking furious - "is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion." His light blue eyes twinkled as they flickered over Fred's and George's mutinous faces.

"I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen. "The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your wholehearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop chop!"

Once Dumbledore had dismissed the students off to bed, Raela found herself being guided by the Gray Lady up a separate set of staircases. Upon the third floor, the Fat Friar amicably lead her down the corridor past where she had snuck into Fluffy's room. Finally, the Bloody Baron showed her to a statue monstrous wolf headed man who wielded a staff ending in an arcane sigil.

When she had spoken the password ' _Essence of Power_ ', the stone creature pulled down a hidden lever that caused some stairs to shimmer into reality. It had a violet running rug that led into a small common room that was similar to the Gryffindor dormitory but much more exquisite.

While her old dormitory had oak furniture, the House of Le'fay owned cherry, birch, elm and yew wood carved furniture that appeared to be one piece of wood. It gave the room a very luxurious but homey feel. Desks and cabinets were bolted in place with gilded nails and hinges.

One corner held a small pantry and a cooling chamber for drinks one would like chilled or food kept fresh. Like the other dorms (Slytherin And Gryffindor) there were plenty of desks. A small stove with a kettle was tucked away in the corner.

Raela soon learned that the House of Le Fay was co-ed from the fact there was only one large bedroom with only three massive beds set in a triangle formation. In the center, there was a giant end table with a drawer on each side. For each bed, there was a separate closet and a small cubicle to hide one's trunk. The unfortunate part was that there were no curtains nor privacy screens.

Moving onto the bathing situation, the drow found that it was eerily similar to the Prefect bathroom; one large bathing pool with many different spigots and nozzles. Unlike the one prefects had access to, this bathroom had a natural appearing waterfall as the main source of washing oneself. The three toilets on the other side of the room weren't even in stalls. In fact, nearly everything was to be shared amongst the house. There was utterly no privacy whatsoever. At least she was the only one in the entire House. For now...

* * *

The storm had blown itself out by the following morning, though the ceiling in the Great Hall was still gloomy. When she had come down to breakfast, Raela found her table waiting for her just the same as it had the night before. The morning meal appeared the moment she took a seat at her table of one. Not that she minded being alone.

As she dug into a plate of eggs benedict and a five ounce breakfast steak complete with orange juice (since she didn't really care for that overly sweet pumpkin juice normally served at meals) and bacon, the morning mail arrived. She didn't really expect anything since she had arrived only yesterday. That, and the snowy coat of her owl was not seen amid the mass of tawny and brown.

Nearly silent fluttering wings caused the drow to look up from her plate. She clutched her heart, not having noticed it land on the table. Instead of the usual courier owl stood a majestic raven, poised elegantly. A parchment envelope was tucked in its beak. It only grudgingly let Raela take her mail after a few seconds. She immediately opened it and began to read silently.

 _Dear...great granddaughter..._

 _It has only been recently that I have learned of your existence. A letter from my niece's daughter notified me that you are the newest heiress presumptive of the House of Black. Funny. I didn't think either of my grandsons had children. Regardless, I am pleased to make your acquaintance._

 _On the best of occasions, I would have a better greeting than this. But I have little time. You see, I have been away for some time, considering I had nearly been put out of commission because of a...dispute I had with my now deceased wife. But it seems I am on my deathbed after fighting the poison that this blasted nurse keeps putting in my food. Sadly, I haven't the strength these days to fight back. My days are measured in months if not weeks and so it is my duty to inform you as the next Head of House Black._

 _My grandsons...both are unable to carry on the line. Regulus...oh such a foolish boy. He died as a Knight of Walpurgis (Death Eater as I'm told they call themselves these days). I'm terribly distraught to have outlived him if by a few years. Then that terrible temper of Sirius' got him locked up in Azkaban for supposedly murdering Pettigrew and thirteen muggles. Can't say for sure I blame him or if he even did it. Regardless, his internment in that hellish place has likely rendered the boy sterile. Which leave you as the current purest Black remaining to continue our noble line. It's a tall order I ask of you, but I do not doubt you would not wish extinction upon the family._

 _With that out of the way, I would like to give you a few gifts as the soon to be Head of House. First of all, the raven whom delivered this missive to you is yours to keep. His name is Svaldraan. Imported from Sweden if you must know. Beware, he's a bit of a grumpy bird. His beak is sharp. Just a warning is all. Ah but I'm sure he'll warm up to you eventually._

 _Next is a few things that will help you carry out your duties as the soon to be clan head. The first is a guide to help to become an animagus. Most in our line do have the ability to shift their attuned animal. It would be a severe failure on my part if I didn't prepare you to be the Black Matriarch. Once you are of age, you will have a few more responsibilities. I trust my grandson is teaching you what it means to lead the other, is the Black family Grimoire. It contains all spells created by those born or married into the clan and those spells received as a dowry. It also holds the origin and history of the Blacks. To receive these books, drop a small amount of blood on the family crest._

 _If I'm still alive by the time the school year ends, please try to stop by St Mungo's. If possible, I would like to meet my chief replacement. I'll try not to die. You do the same. After all, paranoia isn't bad if it's vaunted. Farewell and take care of yourself._

 _Regards,_

 _Arcturus Cygnus Black III_

Giving the raven's feathers a gentle stroke, Raela soon regretted it when the irritable blackbird snapped at her finger, leaving a shallow but stinging cut. Well at least that saved her the energy of cutting her finger. She tipped her digit over the bottom of the parchment until a single drop splashed down.

Upon contact, a small book no bigger than a paperback novel and a tome a little larger than the average textbook fell into her lap. With a little smile, she stowed both into her bookbag. As a tribute, she offered a slice of her bacon to the large raven who remained on the table. Accepting the fatty treat, he finally flew off, probably to the owlery.

Once she had eaten her fill, the young elf found a slip of parchment materialize before her which turned out it was her schedule. For the semester anyways. She smiled and thanked the semi-sentient spirit of the castle. It seemed her first class of the day was Herbology with the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws. It wasn't long before she was on her way down to the greenhouses.

* * *

Wednesday brought Transfiguration and Defense Against the Dark Arts. The former, Raela did rather well, but not in a flashy manner that would have Granger ranting about how she caught on so fast. McGonagall was most pleased with the manner that Raela sailed through the day's lesson. Both bookwork and wand work was phenomenal as the old scotswoman chimed at the end of the hour.

Defence Against the Dark Arts was in the same classroom as it had been in the last three years. This year however, it wasn't so much separated by two houses and year. Well, the students are all fourth years, but there are Ravenclaws, Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs and Slytherins mixed in. It's mostly due to the different times electives took place. Being the only member of the House of Le'fay, it was the only viable class for since her Ancient Runes took place the hour before and Magical Creatures class was first thing in the morning.

Speaking of CoM, Hagrid had been delighted to meet her. Raela found out that he's just a big softy regardless of who you are, except if your name is Malfoy and you're an arrogant prick. The first lesson they had was on bowtruckles. An easy going class with no danger an no big amount of work so they could be relaxed as they worked.

Anyways, Raela had been the second to arrive, only beaten by minutes by Hermione Granger. The bushy haired bookworm had given her an affronted look before sitting at the front of the class like she always did. In every. Single. Class.

Standing at the front of the room was the illustrious cursebreaker himself. Once everyone was seated, Bill spoke up, "Alright, it's time to for roll call. When I call your name, please stand up and say 'here'. Understood?"

More or less, everyone nodded. He cleared his throat and began, "Auris, Demytri."

A geeky kid in the front row stood up and said, "Present, professor sir."

"Black, Raela."

Dutifully, the dark elf rose from her chair and spoke softly but resoundingly, "Present."

"Bones, Susan."

The Hufflepuff stood up and squeaked, "Here."

Surprisingly, students politely said they were present in varying tones of enthusiasm or a well lack of it. But no one was rude to the new teacher. Even the Slytherins had a modicum of politeness despite their dislike of the Weasley family. At last Professor Weasley called out the last name: "Zabini, Blaise."

The dark skinned Italian safely stood up and let her presence be known. Her and her stupid pretty mocha colored skin. It wasn't like Raela had a crush on her or anything.

"Great, everyone's here. I'm not gonna bullshit here and we'll just jump right into it." Bill sighed and said, "According to the notes I've received from Remus Lupin, you focused on magical creatures the previous year. However, there is a disturbing lack of defensive or offensive magic officially taught in this class. From my standpoint, you're all behind in your learning. So in order to see where you're all at, I'd like to propose some mock duels. Well all pair up and go one at a time. How does that sound?"

A murmur of agreement spread across the classroom like wildfire. After the resounding unanimous decision, the redheaded wizard told the students, "Great. Try not to choose your friends or you'll instinctively hold back. I want to see what you're all capable of." He ordered everyone to stand up and pick up their shoulder bags before banishing all the desks to the perimeter of the classroom.

Unfortunately due to the lack of an even amount of students, there was no one for Raela to face off against. The teacher quickly noticed this and told her, "I'll be your partner since there's an odd number of people in the class. Sound good?"

"Go easy on me, Professor," smirked the elven witch. "I am only fourteen after all."

The long haired redhead rolled his eyes as he said, "Don't say it like that. Sounds dirty."

"I'm a teenager, Bill. Of course I have my mind in the gutter," quipped Raela as she twirled her wand in her hand and tucked it away. She wouldn't need it just yet. The teacher muttered something under his breath even her elven ears couldn't pick up.

Naturally, Hermione and Ron tried paired up, but Malfoy dragged the lanky redhead so they could be against each other. Granger had no choice but go with the 'pug-faced' Pansy Parkinson. Daphne Greengrass chose that snooty Ravenclaw Terry Boot for no other reason than to mop the floor with him. The two gorilla-like lackies (Crabbe & Goyle) were easily quick to partner up.

"Alright, I only have a couple rules for these mock duels. Number one, NON lethal spells. This includes Unforgivables and I hope you're all not that stupid. We're here to learn and have fun, not to act out on any grudges we may have or send our rivals to push daisies. Rule two, NO permanently maiming each other. Scars are pretty cool, but not when it makes it hard to do things. So basically don't do anything that can't be reversed by Madam Pomfrey. And lastly, have some fun. Not everything has to be a competition. Can you all follow those simple rules?"

The class mumbled in agreement. "Great. With you all paired up with the exception of miss Black, I want you to form two lines. When it is your turn, I will call your names and tell you to begin." With that being said, Bill cordoned off a ten foot rectangle with an activation spell. It seems they hadn't noticed the rune scheme on the floor below them. There was a small section that was flexible for duelists to enter. From what little Raela could make of it, she knew it was meant stop errant and fly away spells.

First up, it was Blaise versus someone Raela couldn't recall. But the dark skinned witch had no trouble disarming and incapacitating her opponent with calculated efficiency. Going second was Hermione and Pansy which ended in more or less of a draw. The bushy haired muggleborn likely had an eidetic memory but her actual understanding of dueling magic escaped her whereas Pansy knew it, but hadn't the power to really incapacitate her partner.

When it was Ron Weasley against Draco Malfoy, Raela had to physically restrain herself from giggling. Her amusement was from seeing the two fire off jinxes, curses and hexes with awful accuracy. Anything that did hit, wasn't strong enough to really do any effect. After five minutes, it was called a draw, Bill shaking his head in disappointment.

Finally, it was her turn to duel. Raela entered the wars and unsheathed her wand from her cleavage which seemed to have her teacher and a few others blush. She gave a smirk as she waited for the go ahead.

The moment Bill had said 'go', she shot off a disarming hex and dashed to the left to move out of the way of a Jelly-legs jinx. It was clear he was going easy on her, which she found insulting. So she threw a bone-breaking curse she learned from the Black Grimoire which Bill dodged with ease. Raela growled as she vaulted over a low wall that her teacher had conjured to block her boil inducing curse. No matter how many times or how quick she sent out a spell, the eldest weasley just blocked or dodged with ease.

Angry and frustrated, the dark elf began to shout, "Fulminis!"

But before she could finish the wand movement and incantation, a wave of water collided with her and a follow up spell instantly froze her. Encased in her icy prison, Raela hissed a few choice words of explicit nature, glaring at the teacher.

Tutting, Professor Weasley said in a disappointed tone, "I thought I said nothing dangerous, missy. It appears either it went in one ear and out the other or you simply forgot because you let your emotions get the better of you. Luckily, I could stop you before you electrocuted yourself."

Her cheeks colored out of embarrassment as she got a dressing down for both not following the rules of the duel as well as using an extremely dangerous elemental spell. She muttered a half hearted apology.

"Well, it looks like multiple years other than last year were spent with incompetent teachers. I had hoped it was mere speculation, but it seems it's been more detrimental to the lot of you than I thought. The level of skill between all of you is so skewed I'm almost not sure of what to do." Bill sighed and shook his head. "Some of you are just about ready for Fifth year material and some are dueling at a 2nd year level which saddens me. I'll have a plan for the next class onwards. Now I believe most of you have another class to attend.

After class had ended, Raela had left the classroom rather sulkily, not only from being bested, but lectured by Ron's oldest brother.

* * *

Thursday evening found Raela in good health and reasonably happy. So far, her classes had been neither too easy nor overly challenging. However, there was a matter of pride she needed to attend to.

As far as she knew, and she had asked prefects of the other houses, if Hogwarts had anything planned to welcome the guests coming at the end of October. No one knew anything which meant that the Headmaster had nothing in mind. She wanted to change that which is why she caught up to a pair of sixth year boys.

"Fred, George. A word if you please." Raela beckoned a finger to the redheaded twins to follow.

She had turned heel and led the two sixth years into an abandoned classroom and waited for them to shut the door. Once they had done so, she asked, "Do you two know why I requested your presence here tonight?"

"Can't say-"

George finished for his brother, "that we do, Miss Black."

"Good, glad that I'm still as mysterious as ever," replied Raela. "A reliable source of mine informs me that you two are among the most ruthless pranksters at this school. I'd like to offer a preposition to the two of you if I may."

George spoke first. "Who do you need knocked down a few pegs?"

"Or humiliated for funsies?" asked Fred. "We noticed some buggering Slytherins and a few other...unmentionable wankers trying to bully you."

"So we thought if you had people in mind-"

To which Fred wrapped up, "that we could dish out some well needed justice."

Rubbing her head, the galaxy haired elf asked, "Has anyone told you how much of a headache that 'twinspeak' thing you two do is?"

"Loads of times," said George.

"So much by our mother," picked up Fred.

To which George concluded, "That she's threatened to remove our tongues."

"Or sew our mouths shut," supplied Fred.

"Anyways, I'm not so much as planning revenge for their childishness as I am preparing to show them being a halfblood means nothing. That I am every bit more powerful than they are. Think of it as...rectifying their view on me by overpowering their minds, hearts and tugging their souls with a mere performance. But I need your help to do it.

"Blimey I got chills!" crowed Fred as Raela finished her explanation. "What do you think, uglier twin of mine?"

Grinning excitedly, the identical red headed wizard replied, "I for one, think this is a fantastic idea."

Smirking, the dark elf said, "I'll get the sheet music to you and your assistants within the next few days. Oh and if you even think of snitching on me, I'll make what the Marauders do look like child's play. Understood?"

"I'll be in touch then, boys~"

Once Raela had disappeared out the room, the two Weasleys look at each other and said, "You know, I think we just found someone we should never prank. I think if we did, I don't think we'd keep our family jewels. Note to us: Never piss off Raela Black."

"Agreed."

* * *

Friday was a day Raela had been both looking forward to while simultaneously dreading it. The former was because it was almost the weekend. But at the same time, she had double Potions with the Gryffindors and the Slytherins.

The room immediately quieted the moment Snape swept into the room. It was no secret that anyone who wasn't a Slytherin feared the man and his less than amicable disposition.

As he was taking roll, the greasy potions master sneered, "Well, if it isn't the newest celebrity to replace Potter. Just so you know, Miss," he said, stressing the word, "Black, I do not make exceptions to anyone just because of their fifteen minutes of fame in the paper. Do you understand?"

"Certainly, professor," she mocked. Just because she was unrecognizable as James and Lily's son doesn't mean the bad blood between them was gone. It was even worse being Sirius Black's daughter. Snape hated anything to do with the Marauders if her dad's stories were anything to go by.

Snape silently fumed before finishing the attendance call. Once he had finished, the Potions Master practically smacked the blackboard with the tip his wand. Words appeared on the black backdrop. "Instructions are on the board. You have until the end of the period to brew an acceptable potion. If you fail to complete the assignment or create a substandard potion, you will receive a zero for the day."

Keeping her cool despite the unlikable man, the elven which inquired, "Are you not going to cover basic safety or discuss the proper procedures and techniques when it comes to handling certain ingredients?"

"I am not here to hold hands, Miss Black. I am here to teach. It is not my fault if many of you are such dunderheads that you cannot follow simple directions," Snape snapped salaciously.

Raela smirked, "Oh, I see. I suppose you won't mind if copy down those words so I can use them to draft a letter to the Board of Governors. Professor...refuses to impart his knowledge on the proper safety of the classroom. Nor...does he show us proper stirring, ageing or bottling techniques..." When she was done sprawling on a fresh piece of parchment, she looked up and said snidely, " Excellent. Got what I need. Continue, Potions Master."

A sour look crept onto the greasy haired wizard's face as he realized the implications behind the elf's backtalk. It was very real that he could be fired, or at the very least put on probation if the Board found him guilty of complaints.

"As much as I loathe to admit it, Miss Black has a point. Since you all continue to be dunderheads and your skills have barely improved from year one, I suppose we will have to postpone brewing the Wit-Sharpening potion until next class." His voice continued to show distaste and no sign of stemming his venom. "Today, I will show you the

Satisfied, Raela took out her notebook and began writing down key notes she deemed important from the lecture/demonstrated techniques. Slicing, dicing, mincing, crushing were among some of the cuts they were expected to know. Everything was to be a margin of 1/8th of an inch from the desired specifications for best possible results. Different types of potions were made with different methods of stirring such as the direction, time between adding ingredients as well as the time of day. Even that some could take weeks, months or even years.

Perhaps now, Potions wouldn't be as bad now that they actually had a clue of what they were supposed to be doing. Though she doubted it, there was a tiny sliver of hope that Snape might actually do his job.

* * *

Within the first two weeks, Raela had become an exemplary student that many first years and even a few second and third years looked up to. Even then, she was not beloved by all. Not like their precious Harry Potter.

She had even noticed Granger's livid glares every so often when she felt like even giving her former friend the time of day. It was as if being beautiful and smart at the same time was a crime against humanity.

Halloween had snuck up on the students rather quickly. Before they knew it, the school had been decorated with extra care than the last few years. No doubt in attempt to impress the visitors. Raela was sure it was merely because of the foreign dignitaries that would be arriving shortly. There was no other logical reason. Speaking of, classes had let out early so the students would have time to dress in their finest school robes as well to freshen up.

By six o'clock, the majority of Hogwarts' students had assembled at the front entrance of the Great Hall. When everyone was there for the most part. they filed down the steps and lined up in front of the castle. The Heads of Houses were ordering their charges into neat rows.

"Weasley, straighten your hat," Professor McGonagall snapped at the lankey redhead. "Miss Patil, take that ridiculous thing out of your hair." Parvati scowled and removed a large ornamental butterfly from the end of her plait. Minnie seemed to be on the warpath to make sure everyone seemed to looked the best they possibly could, if fretting a bit too much over the smallest of details.

Raela grumbled, forced to sit at front with her black and purple robes. Her discomfort was because a high end glamor was cast on her by an upperclassman who was friends with Fred and George. As much as she appreciated it, it was widely unnerving to appear as a non-descript black haired girl with gray eyes instead of her usual self.

When she looked up, she found it was a clear evening; brisk and cloudless with a semi-transparent moon illuminating the tops of the trees of the Forbidden Forest. It was beautiful. But she didn't have time to drink in the beauty of the scene as the students behind her were clamoring with wonder. She saw it before the headmaster announced it. Her sharp eyes saw the dots in the sky which quickly became winged horses.

"Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!"

"Where?" asked many students eagerly, all looking in different directions. "There!" yelled a sixth year, pointing over the forest.

"It's a dragon!" shrieked one of the first years, losing her head completely. "Don't be stupid. . . it's a flying house!" said one of the third years.

It turns out it was a gigantic, powder blue, horse-drawn carriage, the size of a large house, soaring toward them, pulled through the air by a dozen winged horses. Not pegasi, but something larger.

Abraxans, Raela noted to herself as the massive carriage skidded to a halt on the lawn. The massive horses nickered, shaking their heads vainly. She just had enough time to see that the door of the carriage bore a coat of arms (two crossed, golden wands, each emitting three stars) before it opened. A young lady in pale blue robes jumped down from the carriage, bent forward, fumbled for a moment with something on the carriage floor, and unfolded a set of golden steps. She sprang back respectfully.

Then the dark elf saw a shining, high-heeled black shoe emerging from the inside of the carriage - a shoe the size of a child's sled - followed, almost immediately, by the largest woman she had ever seen in her life. The size of the carriage, and of the horses, was immediately explained. A few people gasped. Raela had only ever seen one person as large as this woman in her life, and that was Hagrid; she doubted whether there was an inch difference in their heights. Yet somehow - maybe simply because she was used to Hagrid - this woman (now at the foot of the steps, and looking around at the waiting, wide-eyed crowd) seemed even more unnaturally large. As she stepped into the light flooding from the entrance hall, she was revealed to have a handsome, olive-skinned face; large, black, liquid-looking eyes; and a rather beaky nose. Her hair was drawn back in a shining knob at the base of her neck. She was dressed from head to foot in black satin, and many magnificent opals gleamed at her throat and on her thick fingers.

Dumbledore started to clap; the students, following his lead, broke into applause too, many of them standing on tiptoe, the better to look at this woman. Her face relaxed into a gracious smile and she walked forward toward Dumbledore, extending a glittering hand. Dumbledore, though tall himself, had barely to bend to kiss it. "My dear Madame Maxime," he said. "Welcome to Hogwarts."

"Dumbly-dor," said Madame Maxime in a deep, accented voice. "I 'ope I find you well?"

"In excellent form, I thank you," said Dumbledore.

"My pupils," said Madame Maxime, waving one of her enormous hands carelessly behind her. Raela , whose attention had been focused completely upon Madame Maxime, now noticed that about a dozen boys and girls, all, by the look of them, in their late teens, had emerged from the carriage and were now standing behind Madame Maxime in an unfamiliar formation. They were shivering, which was unsurprising, given that their robes seemed to be made of fine silk, and none of them were wearing cloaks. A few had wrapped scarves and shawls around their heads. From what Raela could see of them (they were standing in Madame Maxime's enormous shadow), they were staring up at Hogwarts with apprehensive looks on their faces.

"Has Karkaroff arrived yet?" Madame Maxime inquired.

"I do believe the good sir should be here any moment," said Dumbledore kindly. Then he offered a query, "Would you like to wait here and greet him or would you prefer to step inside and warm up a trifle?"

"Warm up, I think," said Madame Maxime, glancing to the blue clad students behind her. "But ze 'orses -"

"Our Care of Magical Creatures teacher will be most delighted to take care of them," said Dumbledore, "the moment he has returned from dealing with a slight situation that has arisen with some of his other - er - charges."

"My steeds require - er - forceful 'andling," said Madame Maxime with a skeptical look as though she doubted whether any Care of Magical Creatures teacher at Hogwarts could be up to the job. "Zey are very strong. . . ."

"I assure you that Hagrid will be well up to the job," said Dumbledore, smiling in assurance.

"Very well," said Madame Maxime, bowing slightly. "Will you please inform zis 'Agrid zat ze 'orses drink only single-malt whiskey?"

"It will be attended to," promised Dumbledore, also bowing.

"Come," said Madame Maxime imperiously to her students, and the Hogwarts crowd parted to allow her and her students to pass up the stone steps.

There was several minutes where the Hogwarts students stood there in the cold like blithering idiots, looking around. Many of them her chattering. It was almost November and the dew would soon be frost.

Raela listened, straining her ears; a loud and oddly eerie noise was drifting toward them from out of the darkness: a muffled rumbling and sucking sound, as though an immense vacuum cleaner were moving along a riverbed.

"The lake!" yelled Lee Jordan, pointing down at it. "Look at the lake!" From their position at the top of the lawns overlooking the grounds, they had a clear view of the smooth black surface of the water - except that the surface was suddenly not smooth at all. Some disturbance was taking place deep in the center; great bubbles were forming on the surface, waves were now washing over the muddy banks - and then, out in the very middle of the lake, a whirlpool appeared, as if a giant plug had just been pulled out of the lake's floor. . What seemed to be a long, black pole began to rise slowly out of the heart of the whirlpool. . . and then Raela saw the rigging...

' _It's a mast! They're coming by ship,'_ she exclaimed to herself.

Slowly, magnificently, the ship rose out of the water, gleaming in the moonlight. It had a strangely skeletal look about it, as though it were a resurrected wreck, and the dim, misty lights shimmering at its portholes looked like ghostly eyes. Finally, with a great sloshing noise, the ship emerged entirely, bobbing on the turbulent water, and began to glide toward the bank. A few moments later, they heard the splash of an anchor being thrown down in the shallows, and the thud of a plank being lowered onto the bank. People were disembarking; they could see their silhouettes passing the lights in the ship's portholes. All of them seemed to be built along the lines of Crabbe and Goyle... but then, as they drew nearer, walking up the lawns into the light streaming from the entrance hall, he saw that their bulk was really due to the fact that they were wearing cloaks of some kind of shaggy, matted fur.

But the man who was leading them up to the castle was wearing furs of a different sort: sleek and silver, like his hair. "Dumbledore!" he called heartily as he walked up the slope. "How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?"

"Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff," Dumbledore replied. Karkaroff had a fruity, insipid voice; when he stepped into the light pouring from the front doors of the castle they saw that he was tall and thin like Dumbledore, but his white hair was short, and his goatee (finishing in a small curl) did not entirely hide his rather weak chin. When he reached Dumbledore, he shook hands with both of his own. "Dear old Hogwarts," he said, looking up at the castle and smiling; his teeth were rather yellow, and Raela noticed that his smile did not extend to his eyes, which remained cold and shrewd. "How good it is to be here, how good.. . . Viktor, come along, into the warmth. . . you don't mind, Dumbledore? Viktor has a slight head cold..."

Raela no longer deigned to listen to what anyone had to say or do. She was cold and somehow, became the messiah of leading everyone into the castle; out of the chilly night air and into the toasty Great Hall.

The majority of the Beauxbatons students had taken a seat at the Ravenclaw table while the entirety of the Durmstrang delegation seated themselves at the Slytherins. The delegations from two of Europe's prestigious schools were seemingly most picky where they were to sit for the evening meal.

"Before we commence with this delicious feast tonight, one of our most dedicated has graciously donated a bit of her time tonight to to perform a song she composed herself. According to her, she has quite the show planned for us," said Albus, looking down on all the students from his crescent spectacles. "So why don't we sit back and enjoy the provided entertainment."

A stage rose from the floor where the small house table of one had sat, almost becoming a miniature mesa above the rest of the onlookers. The regular torches and candles floating above them extinguished, bathing them in near perfect darkness. Then a single mage-light hovered over the center of the room, the light fixated on the stone stage.

Raela had donned something a little more risque than what she would normally wear, especially to an important semi-formal event. She had glamored her outfit and accessories to appear like the traditional Hogwarts robes. But it had been for this very purpose she dressed the way she did. She wanted to make an impression and by the wilde gods, she would!

Stone tiles grew from the floor, the next two feet higher than the last, creating rather impromptu stairs. As she climbed, her body shimmered as her charm disintegrated, revealing her true form, but also her outfit which was an elegant dress that looked as though woven from living crystal. Every movement caused it to glitter and shine like sapphires. She could hear some gasps from the wizards and witches of the other schools, their eyes locked onto her form. She hid a smirk before slowly drawing her wand from her freckled cleavage.

Her wand's tip ignited with violet flames. Then she began to draw an inverted star in the air; the signal. Then it began to spin in the air like a galleon before it dispersed to the corners of the room, sitting like floating torches.

Above them near the single large lumos light, a transparent platform came into existence. Shortly after that, several spectral figures followed that as well as instruments the illusions took up. A swift rhythm built up as they began to play.

A deep male voice from nowhere yet everywhere simultaneously intoned: " _ **Oremus patrum, nostrum, aeternum est. Oremus mater, nostra, sancti vi tes. Oremus Venus, deus, credo in nobilita!"**_

One breath was all she needed to prepare herself despite her heart hammering in her chest. Clearing her throat, Raela's voice erupted into song:

 _Venom of Venus take us all for blind_

 _Bringer of poison for the heart and mind_

 _Never resist when your eyes inflame the wild_

 _Venom of Venus or a fairytale_

 _Sing of temptation when sirens wail_

 _Out of our minds by the wonders you unveil_

 _Come blessed desire bring us all to fail_

As the tempo of the song quickened, so did the magic swirling around the Great Hall, the violet orbs of fire began to split and multiply. Each new flame flickered as it took the shape of some kind of magical creature. Those with wings took flight and began to soar around the room. The land based one galloped, slithered and otherwise moved around the room, between tables and leapt from banner to banner, all to the beat of the music.

 _We are the cursed we came form fire and ice_

 _We are the first to kill the sinner for lies_

 _We are the blessed, we crave the venom of Venus for life_

 _All our life_

 _We are the sword we tame the fire, the flame_

 _We hail the lord we fear no rebel, no pain_

 _We are possessed we have the venom of Venus in veins_

 _Venom of Venus inundate our veins_

 _Eradicate minds till only lust remains_

 _Set us ablaze like the wake of hurricanes_

 _Venom of Venus lead us all astray_

 _Bring us the sin before the martyrs pray_

 _Let it begin by the dawn of our judgement day_

 _We are the cursed we came form fire and ice_

 _We are the first to kill the sinner for lies_

 _We are the blessed, we crave the venom of Venus for life_

 _All our life_

 _We are the sword we tame the fire, the flame_

 _We hail the lord we fear no rebel, no pain_

 _We are possessed we have the venom of Venus in veins_

 _And in the eye of all the believing_

 _Lead us straight to the curse divine_

 _And by the time our hearts are healing_

 _Inject the poison in our minds_

 _We are the cursed we came form fire and ice_

 _We are the first to kill the sinner for lies_

 _We are the blessed, we crave the venom of Venus for life_

 _We are the sword we tame the fire, the flame_

 _We hail the lord we fear no rebel, no pain_

 _We are possessed we have the venom of Venus in veins_

At last, the creatures all converged on each other, merging into one being. When the last one melted in, the amalgamation of magic took on the form of a massive dragon that gave a roar before exploding into a shower of harmless sparks.

Witches and wizards from all three magical schools stared at Raela in wonder and amazement. They had never expected a strange woman as her to have such a beautiful voice as well as the ability to conjure spectral familiars who had played the drums, bass, and an electric guitar.

Once the last note had been played, Raela bowed and spoke, "Thank you for watching tonight. I would of course, like to applaud my helpers who made my show possible tonight. Give them all a hearty hand!"

From around the Great Hall, several people revealed themselves to their audience. The Weasley twins canceled their disillusionment charms from near the base of the stage and bowed. Lee Jordan waved from his spot in the far section of the room where one was hidden for the most part. A fifth year Ravenclaw and a seventh year Slytherin also revealed themselves from their locations.

Once her show had ended, Raela sat back down on her stage (which had transfigured back into a circular table) before letting Dumbledore take the floor once more.

* * *

 **A/N: I decided to do something more AU this fic although some of the text comes directly from Goblet of Fire (you all probably know what parts so I have no need to point it all out). Instead of having Crouch Jr disguised as Moody as the defense professor, I went with Bill Weasley with him being a Curse Breaker and all. Oh and sorry for the excessive exposition at the beginning of the chapter. I didn't feel like filling an entire chapter simply with more fluff. So I merely glossed over it with minimal coverage. Besides, I'm sure you'd all like to get to the real action. Although I'm wondering if it would have been more prudent to write this as two smaller chapters than the big chapter it is. Oh well.**

 **P.S: the song she sang was Venom of Venus by Powerwolf. If you don't know them, you should check them out as well as their latest album, Sacrament of Sin.**


	5. Chapter IV

**A/N: Hello and welcome to another installment of Hell's Princess.**

 **First off, I'd like to address an anonymous review under the guise of 'Me Myself and I'. To begin with, you do make some excellent points although I thought I had made it clear this story was AU. Like that Year 4's DADA teacher is Bill Weasley instead of the fake Alastor Moody. This also relates to the female Blaise Zabini I decided to go with. For risk of spoilers, her view towards Raela is not out of character for good reason. That's all I'll say about Blaise at this time.**

 **Onto the next bit: the title** _ **Hell's Princess**_ **and the fae themes have yet to be explained in the story as thus posted so far. It will be elaborated in the near future in the following chapters, so don't worry about it too much.**

 **My inspiration for making Raela a Drow elf comes from a variety of sources such as D &D, Pop Culture, my own fucked up brain and webcomics. There are many iterations of Drow, many with very similar appearances. Some are dark-blue-black with white hair, some are grey-black and some are brown-black. Dark/Drow elves are pretty interchangeable depending on your view. Plus when put into writing some people mistake the adjective 'black' to refer to individuals of African descent. I'm simply just trying to prevent such confusion there though my mind's eye does picture Raela with traditional black skin, white hair with a sort of starry/galaxy effect going on if that makes any sense.**

 **Although if any of you are curious, Raela's base form; as in the human version of her is pretty standard. Short, raven hair with the famous unruly Potter hair although she greatly resembles Dorea Black. Of course, the bright green eyes from her mother. Average sized chest, etc. Of course the fact that she can essentially be anyone she wants to be, her base form will rarely be seen.**

 **About the show; I would agree if we were talking about a simple Harry genderbend. Unfortunately, it's not quite right. Because Raela is both a drow elf, but also fae, she has a dark, whimsical if vindictive personality that will show up in the future, also because of a certain something that happens soon as well. It'll all be clear in future chapters. I hope.**

 **Now for the suggestions: I've already planned for Raela's magic to be centered around shadows which incidentally, fits very well with the Black Family magicks as well as some others only found within the ruins of certain places. I of course, have ideas in mind but I am open to suggestions.**

 **The horcrux is something I'm still considering on what to do with. Should I make it merge with Raela, granting her awful and dark knowledge or do I have her learn about it through a series of dreams or Madam Pomfrey discovering it and have it removed by a third party? Regardless, the scar isn't noticeable thanks to her black skin. Plus as a metamorph, she could always move it to somewhere on her body no one looks at.**

 **Finally, thank you for such an in-depth review. Such feedback is very helpful and I wish I had more like this!**

 **Sorry for the lengthy author's note. Now onto the show. I hope y'all enjoy what I've delivered today. Ciao.**

* * *

 **Chapter IV**

For those that wished to put their name forward for the champion selection, they were given exactly one week to do so. The Goblet of Fire was placed in the entrance hall. A visibly white ring of a smoky substance hovered around the pedestal the cup was placed upon.

Raela wasn't interested at all in who from what house or school would be planning on entering the drawing to represent their school. She wished people wouldn't gossip so loudly about the subject, but it was hard not to listen when it was happening everywhere.

But the worst offender was her former best friend, Ronald Weasley. Despite the fact or because of him being a Gryffindor, the lanky redhead was either unable or had the inability to control the volume of his voice. So the consistent fawning of Viktor Krum was certainly not lost on Raela.

If she was honest with herself, the dark elf had lost her interest in quidditch. It was an okay sport and it was always a fun challenge to find, follow and catch the snitch before the other seeker, but Raela preferred to just fly. And on her weekends, she would just that on her new broom Sirius had bought for her. While the Firebolt had been relevant a year ago, a new broom in its beta stages called the Stormwyrm came out. Of course her dad had to spoil her with something unavailable to even the public, not that she was complaining. Sirius Black loved to spoil his daughter, his absence from her life for the last twelve years notwithstanding.

Although if there was something she had noticed since the foreign schools had taken to staying at Hogwarts, Raela had if after a few days, noticed that whenever a certain pale blonde French girl went, boys and even some girls would stare at her with a glazed look in their eyes. If she cared at all, she'd investigate but it seemed like it was more trouble than it would be worth. So she did nothing.

Even with distracted students, standoffish visitors and wary teachers, sometimes Raela felt there was something strange going on in the background. Something that affected her in one way or another. This was one such of those days.

"Done it," Fred said in a triumphant whisper to Raela. She stopped and raised an eyebrow. George had pulled his little brother there too. "Just taken it."

"What?" said Ron, a confused expression crawling onto his freckled face. He looked at Raela without recognition of who she was and mouthed to her, 'what's he on about?' She didn't know either and merely shrugged.

"The Aging Potion, dung for brains," said Fred with minor irritation.

"One drop each," said George, rubbing his hands together with glee. "We only need to be a few months older. That's all it should take to get us past the line."

"We're going to split the thousand Galleons between the three of us if one of us wins," said Lee, grinning broadly.

"I'm not sure this is going to work, you know," said Raela in a bored drawl though warningly. "I'm sure that old fart - I mean Dumbledore will have thought of this. In fact, if this harebrained scheme of yours fails as spectacularly as I'm thinking, then I'll laugh."

Fred, George, and Lee ignored her. "Ready?" Fred said to the other two, quivering with excitement. "C'mon, then - I'll go first -"

Raela watched, ironically fascinated, as Fred pulled a slip of parchment out of his pocket bearing the words Fred Weasley - Hogwarts. Fred walked right up to the edge of the line and stood there, rocking on his toes like a diver preparing for a fifty-foot drop. Then, with the eyes of every person in the entrance hall upon him, he took a great breath and stepped over the line. For a split second Raela thought it had worked - George certainly thought so, for he let out a yell of triumph and leapt after Fred - but next moment, there was a loud sizzling sound, and both twins were hurled out of the golden circle as though they had been thrown by an invisible shot-putter.

They landed painfully, ten feet away on the cold stone floor, and to add insult to injury, there was a loud popping noise, and both of them sprouted identical long white beards. The entrance hall rang with laughter. Even Fred and George joined in, once they had gotten to their feet and taken a good look at each other's beards.

"You said-"

To which his twin said at the same time, "You said!"

Neither finished their sentences as they had tackled each other to the ground and began to wrestle each other. It was quite a sight to see two teenagers given beards and looking like old men and fighting each other.

"I did warn you," said a deep, amused voice, and everyone turned to see Professor Dumbledore coming out of the Great Hall. He surveyed Fred and George, his eyes twinkling. "I suggest you both go up to Madam Pomfrey. She is already tending to Miss Fawcett, of Ravenclaw, and Mr. Summers, of Hufflepuff, both of whom decided to age themselves up a little too. Though I must say, neither of their beards is anything like as fine as yours."

Fred and George set off for the hospital wing, accompanied by Lee, who was howling with laughter, Raela who was also still chortling, went into the Great Hall for breakfast.

 _ **[A/N: I couldn't resist adding this scene]**_

* * *

That night after seeing the Weasley twins fail epically to enter their names into the tournament, Raela found herself restless. She had tossed and turned in her oversized bed, unable to drift off to the land of dreams.

Snapping her eyes open, she stared off into the shadowy room. It was so empty and dark, lacking coziness of a well lived in bedroom. Somehow, she missed the sounds of other sleeping people. Well, she could do well without Ron's motorboat snoring.

"Why can't I sleep?" she mumbled to herself, her voice a miniscule breeze in the vast emptiness of the dormitory. Loneliness makes poor company, even for a House of one.

A soft lilting tone of the feminine persuasion called out in the darkness, "Because I have been trying to subtly get your attention for the past thirty minutes. Small pulses of magicka can achieve only so much."

Immediately, Raela sat up in bed, the covers falling off from her bare chest. Her wand grasped from the bedside table already emitted a faint glow before she had even begun to cast lumos.

"Who's there?"

Silence reigned over the room. Just the occasional creak from the semi-sentient castle. Besides her own breathing, it was as quiet as a cemetery in the dead of winter. Holding her illuminated wand tip over the Marauder's Map, she spoke the password. Her eyes danced over the worn parchment yet she couldn't find anyone else in the room besides her own little marker. Shaking her head,the elven witch muttered, "I must be going crazy."

"Imagination is a vital component to being a witch as is intellect and logic, but in this case, it is not you who has tipped off the scales of sanity." It was that same voice again that Raela had heard a few minutes prior.

Frowning, the fourteen year old sighed and said aloud to the empty room. "Are you sure? Because I sound absolutely ridiculous talking to myself with nobody around and I know for a fact it's not the Grey Lady."

An amused snort sounded and the womanly voice replied, "Adorable as it is to see you flounder around in the dark, I would ask you come to the wall opposite the window."

If for nothing other than the desire to go back to bed, Raela sauntered across the dormitory where she found the usually empty frame. Except that it wasn't this time. A woman that reminded her an awful lot of Helena Ravenclaw dressed in clothing from the founders' time now occupied the painting.

"About time you found me. And here I wonder how you became a part of this House," snorted the painted woman. "And a pleasant evening as well I suppose. Not that it means anything. Days are the days and nights are nights. Hardly ever anything good or bad about them. Haha...Pleasantries were never really my forte despite Rowena and Haelga's insistence on the importance of niceties. I suppose you must be wondering who I am."

"Yes actually. Most paintings are titled accordingly to the subject within the frame. You are still unknown to me."

The woman chuckled. "Most who are sorted into my house are already knowing of my existence and my extension, my feats. Ahem, allow me to properly introduce myself: I am none other than Morgana Guinevere Le'fay, High Sorceress of Avalon."

Raela was genuinely surprised. As far as she knew, Merlin, Morgana and other Arthurian legends were merely that, legends. She cleared her through and said, "Really? Your chocolate frog card is quite controversial because it shows a picture of some old hag and not the fair lady in the painting before me."

Morgana as she was now named, chortled with heartiness."My dear lady indeed! Now I understand! You were always destined to be in my house. None other than a descendant of mine own would belong otherwise in the House of the Dire-kin!"

"What are you on about?" She asked in confusion.

In response, Morgana inquired, "You are a Metamorphmagus, correct?" Raela nodded. "Let me see your base form dear."

She complied, seeing no reason not to trust a painting of a forgotten witch. In a matter of a few moments, Raela's skin lightened to a pale peach. Her galactic hued hair darkened to a sleek bluish-black while her eyes returned to the vivid emeralds she'd had most of her life. Oddly though, her ears remained elfin; possibly a testament to her fae heritage which remained quite unknown to her.

"Yes! Yes I was right!" crowed Morgana with unmitigated excitement burgeoning in her voice. "I may be just a portrait, but I had a gut feeling and I was right! I almost can't believe it!"

Raela found herself even more confused than she had been a few minutes ago. "Okay, I still have little to know idea what you're talking about and I know someone who talks about imaginary magical creatures that don't exist. Just tell me what's making you so bloody happy already!"

Morgana chuckled from inside her painting. "I'm sorry dear. It's just that it's been 800 years since I talked to anyone and the first witch I do talk to is in fact, my descendant. I don't know whether it's pure irony or a divine blessing from the heavens. Although it would be more ironic...ah nevermind. Your adorable look of confusion must mean you're unaware. I wouldn't doubt that whatever government is in control has either burned all positive information about me or have had it sealed."

"Sealed? A will is one thing even if it's an underhanded move and in some ways possibly linetheft, but how could someone seal an entire array of information?"

"Oh my naive little descendant, "chirped the ancient witch, "I expected better of you. I suppose it cannot be helped. A group of people of the Catholic faith known as the Templar were non magical humans with an extremely xenophobic approach. They spat on the Old Ways, forsaking the Druids and Mages and set to exterminating us. So witches and wizards were forced to go into hiding. Hogwarts was founded in order to protect the young and unlearned from those that would accuse them of evil because they wielded magic. Worst of all are the heretics that joined the Order of hypocrisy. The Templar never stopped searching and eventually they found me when I was away from the safety of the castle. As far as I know, my remains were sealed away to somewhere in South America. My personal affects either destroyed or sealed within my tomb."

With a sigh, Raela asked, "An enlightening little history lesson and no less appreciated, but I'm still wondering how you concluded that I'm a descendant of yours. As far as I'm aware I'm a half-blood with a little fae mixed in. Pureblood father and mum muggleborn...er...first generation witch."

"Fae? My my, I am impressed," purred Morgana. "That must have helped the dormant Le'fay powers surface. Wild magick has a nasty habit of being accentuating strong magic in a witch. Hecate knows how many witches born of fae blood. Anyways, I can see you squirming in anticipation. The way I knew you are kin, is because of such bright, vivid green eyes. Like those that run in the blood of my children and my children's children and so forth. Second of all, every child I have birth or sired has intrinsically been gay, or bisexual at the very least. I'm not sure whether it's personal preference or whether there's a magic of itself. Regardless of its nature, you are my descendant. Which brings me to a request I would ask of you."

Tilting her head, her mind still reeled with the fact she was distantly related to _the_ Morgana Le'fay! She coughed as she regained her senses and said, "What would you have of me, honored ancestor?"

"What I require of you is no small feat but a priceless artifact hopefully in pristine condition shall be your reward," said Morgana without levity. "As I said earlier, my possessions were likely buried with my body. My Grimoire, a focus in itself is your prize. Locate my tomb, break the enchantments protecting the entrance and you'll have a weapon that rivals most staves, wands and other magical foci."

"What next, you're going to order me to find the lost portraits of Hogwarts' Founders?"

Morgana remained disturbingly reticent to proffered query. After a moment, the fair woman replied, "I wouldn't put it so much as 'ordering' as it is a request to your best interests. They taught me what I knew and im sure they would enjoy imparting their knowledge unto you. Although once my Grimoire is in your hopefully capable hands, I will be able to offer you training. There are things even they hadn't learned. If you so choose to accept my proposal."

"I'll need to think about it." She said that aloud to her possible teacher. "I'm starting to wonder if it's not too late to go live as a muggle," the she-elf mumbled under her breath as she crawled back into bed, too tired to process all the information just gifted to her. She wished Morgana a good night before falling prey to the land of dreams.

* * *

Classes had gone as scheduled even though today was the day the contestants for the big tournament would be selected by an impartial judge, a sacred artifact known as the Goblet of Fire. A silly name, Raela thought, for something of supposed immense magical power.

The feast seemed to take much longer than usual. Perhaps because it was their second feast in two months, Raela didn't seem to fancy the extravagantly prepared food as much as she normally would have. Like everyone else in the Hall, judging by the constantly craning necks, the impatient expressions on every face, those individuals unable to cease fidgeting, and those standing up to see whether Dumbledore had finished eating yet, Raela simply wanted the plates to clear, and to hear who had been selected as champions. She had a bad feeling rising in her gut; one that refused to go away.

During the feast, a few from all three schools had decided to join Raela at her table if nothing more than for simple international cooperation. Or so she believes. Two witches from beauxbatons were friendly enough; Katarina du Couteau and Samara de la Vega were an unlikely pair of friends, one confident, sadistic and had blood red hair while the other was somewhat soft spoken, girly and had coal black locks. One from France and one from Spain. Then there was the one Durmstrang boy who refused to talk, merely listen. When pressed for a name, he had opted to write his name on his plate using ketchup. So all they learned about him was that his name was Makarov Ivanovich. Together, they made the small table diverse and rather odd.

At long last, the golden plates returned to their original spotless state; there was a sharp upswing in the level of noise within the Hall, which died away almost instantly as Dumbledore got to his feet. On either side of him, Professor Karkaroff and Madame Maxime looked as tense and expectant as anyone. Ludo Bagman was beaming and winking at various students. Mr. Crouch, however, looked quite uninterested, almost bored. As if his thoughts merited importance over the current events.

"Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision," said Dumbledore. "I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber" — he indicated the door behind the staff table — "where they will be receiving their first instructions."

He took out his wand and gave a great sweeping wave with it; at once, all the candles except those inside the carved pumpkins were extinguished, plunging them into a state of semi darkness. The Goblet of Fire now shone more brightly than anything in the whole Hall, the sparkling bright, bluey-whiteness of the flames almost painful on the eyes. Everyone watched, waiting...A few people kept checking their watches. The tension and suspense was so thick one could sever it with a dull file.

The smouldering embers inside the goblet turned suddenly red. Sparks began to fly from it. Next moment, a tongue of flame shot into the air, a charred piece of parchment fluttered out of it - the whole room gasped. Dumbledore caught the piece of parchment and held it at arm's length, so that he could read it by the light of the flames, which had turned back to blue-white. "The champion for Durmstrang," he read, in a strong, clear voice, "will be Viktor Krum."

"Bravo, Viktor!" boomed Karkaroff, so loudly that everyone could hear him, even over all the applause. "Knew you had it in you!"

Applause spread like wildfire across the hall, beginning first with the devoted fans. Then general fans of professional quidditch and finally the rest of the students were clapping loudly. Even the newly mute Makarov gave a grunt of approval.

Once more, the judge's flames turned red once more, the sight quelling the cheering from before. A gout of flame expelled another slip of parchment which was gingerly snatched out of the air.

"The champion for Beauxbatons," announced Dumbledore, "is Fleur Delacour!"

When the French witch's name had been called, there was a half hearted applause. Polite, but not overly excited. A glance around the hall revealed that many of the students were split between staring googly eyed at the blonde as she passed by them and glaring daggers into her back.

Leaning over to Katarina, she had asked, "What's up with her? Why aren't people happy that she got picked as a champion?"

With an indignant huff, the redheaded witch replied darkly, "That's Fleur Delacour. She's not popular with most people at our school. Lot of rumors have been started just to spite her. Not sure if any of them have any real merit, but with her frigid demeanor, she's not exactly the easiest to get along with. Best to steer clear of her."

Raela frowned and shook her head. Drama of others was not something she needed to involve herself in.

When Fleur Delacour too had vanished into the side chamber, silence fell again, but this time it was a silence so stiff with excitement you could almost taste it. The Hogwarts champion next... And the Goblet of Fire turned red once more; sparks showered out of it; the tongue of flame shot high into the air, and from its tip Dumbledore pulled the third piece of parchment. "The Hogwarts champion," he called, "is Cedric Diggory!"

"Excellent!" Dumbledore called happily as at last the tumult died down. "Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real -"

But Dumbledore suddenly stopped speaking, and it was apparent to everybody what had distracted him. The fire in the goblet had just turned red again. Then it shifted through the pinks and finally a royal purple before the fire shot towards the ceiling in a pillar of pure magical fire. Sparks were flying out of it. A long flame shot suddenly into the air, and borne upon it was another piece of parchment.

Automatically, it seemed, Dumbledore reached out a long hand and seized the parchment. He held it out and stared at the name written upon it. There was a long pause, during which Dumbledore stared at the slip in his hands, and everyone in the room stared at Dumbledore.

And then Dumbledore cleared his throat and read out - "Raela Black."

Raela sat there, aware that every head in the Great Hall had turned to look at her. She was stunned. Her ears felt numb, raw even as blood rushed north. She was surely dreaming; that she had not heard correctly.

There was no applause. A buzzing, as though of angry bees, was starting to fill the Hall; some students were standing up to get a better look at Raela as she sat, frozen, in her seat. Up at the top table, Professor McGonagall had got to her feet and swept past Ludo Bagman and Professor Karkaroff to whisper urgently to Professor Dumbledore, who bent his ear toward her, frowning slightly.

At the top table, Professor Dumbledore had straightened up, nodding to Professor McGonagall. "Raela Black!" he called again, no hint of mirth in his eyes. "Miss Black! Up here, if you please!"

Raela got to her feet, trod on the hem of his robes, and stumbled slightly. She set off up the gap between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables. It felt like an immensely long walk; the top table didn't seem to be getting any nearer at all, and she could feel hundreds and hundreds of eyes upon her, as though each were a searchlight. The buzzing grew louder and louder. After what seemed like an hour but had realistically been a few scant minutes, she was right in front of Dumbledore, feeling the skeptical stares of all the teachers upon her.

"Well.. . through the door, Miss Black," said Dumbledore. He wasn't smiling. She could sense thinly veiled contempt.

Raela moved off along the teachers' table and went through the door out of the Great Hall and found herself in a smaller room, lined with paintings of witches and wizards. A smouldering fire was crackling in the hearth opposite from where she had entered. The faces in the portraits turned to look at her as she entered. She saw a wizened witch flit out of the frame of her picture and into the one next to it, which contained a wizard with a walrus mustache. The wizened witch started whispering in his ear. Her heightened sense of hearing caught snippets about them gossiping about her appearance.

Viktor Krum, Cedric Diggory, and Fleur Delacour were grouped around the fire. They looked strangely impressive, silhouetted against the flames. Krum, hunched up and brooding, was leaning against the mantelpiece, slightly apart from the other two. Cedric was standing with his hands behind his back, staring into the fire.

Fleur Delacour looked around when Raela walked in and threw back her curtain of long, silvery sleek hair. "What is it?" she said. "Do zey want us back in ze Hall?" The French witch must have been under the impression that the elf had come to deliver a message.

Raela swallowed hard. She didn't know how to explain what had just happened. So she just stood there, looking at the three champions. It struck her how very tall all of them were, even against her own growth spurt she'd be since discovering her fae heritage. There was a sound of scurrying feet behind her, and Ludo Bagman entered the room. He took Raela by the arm and led him forward.

"Extraordinary!" he muttered, squeezing Raela's arm much to the latter's obvious discomfort. "Absolutely extraordinary! Gentlemen. . . ladies," he added, approaching the fireside and addressing the other three. "May I introduce - incredible though it may seem - the fourth Triwizard champion?"

Viktor Krum straightened up. His surly face darkened as he surveyed the dark elf. Cedric looked nonplussed, but surprisingly not angry. The Hufflepuff looked from Bagman to Raela and back again as though sure he must have misheard what Bagman had said. Fleur Delacour, however, tossed her hair, smiling, and said, "Oh, vairy funny joke, Meester Bagman."

"Joke?" Bagman repeated, bewildered. "No, no, not at all! Miss Black's name just came out of the Goblet of Fire!" Krum's thick eyebrows contracted slightly. Cedric was still looking politely bewildered.

Fleur frowned. "But evidently zair 'as been a mistake," she said contemptuously to Bagman. "She cannot compete. She is too young."

"Well. . . it is amazing," said Bagman, rubbing his smooth chin and smiling down at Raela who found his gaze creepy. "But, as you know, the age restriction was only imposed this year as an extra safety measure. And as her name's come out of the goblet.. . I mean, I don't think there can be any ducking out at this stage. . . . It's down in the rules, you're obliged. . . Raela will just have to do the best she -"

The door behind them opened again, and a large group of people came in: Professor Dumbledore, followed closely by Mr. Crouch, Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Snape. Raela heard the buzzing of the hundreds of students on the other side of the wall, before Professor McGonagall closed the door.

"Madame Maxime!" said Fleur at once, striding over to her headmistress. "Zey are saying zat zis little fille is to compete also!"

Her comment cut surprisingly deep through the elf's numbing disbelief, her anger rippling beneath the surface. It took a little bit of self control to not snarl out at the French witch. Instead, Raela decided to play naughty. She'd show her better.

Lifting the hem of her skirt, Raela asked in a soft, husky voice, "Do these thighs look like they belong to a little girl?" A few centimeters higher revealed the tops of the lace tights she wore. Even a glimpse of the black knickers to the older witch.

It was just for the briefest of moments, but the Dark elf's predatorial eyes caught sight of Fleur's pinkening ears.

A delightful giggle emanated from Raela's lips as her finger tips let the skirt fall back to her knees and gave a pirouette.

"But she simply cannot compete," came the veela's accented outburst, having overcome the elf's flirtatious number. "She is simply too young. She is just a little girl!"

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say, because when her azure eyes flicked over to Raela, a sense of dread and fury choked the air around her. Those impossibly crimson orbs flecked with gold brimmed fury.

"You dare?!"

Two words she had spoken- no, snarled, but the magic and emotion behind those two syllables practically shook the ground beneath her feet. Fleur opened her mouth to fire a retort, but nothing came out.

Madame Maxime had drawn herself up to her full, and considerable, height. The top of her handsome head brushed the candle-filled chandelier, and her gigantic black-satin bosom swelled. "What is ze meaning of zis, Dumbly-dorr?" she said imperiously.

"I'd rather like to know that, myself, Dumbledore," said Professor Karkaroff. He was wearing a steely smile, and his blue eyes were like imprisoned glaciers. "Two Hogwarts champions? I don't remember anyone telling me the host school is allowed two champions - or have I not read the rules carefully enough?" He gave a short and nasty laugh.

"C'est impossible," said Madame Maxime, whose enormous hand with its many superb opals was resting upon Fleur's shoulder. "Ogwarts cannot 'ave two champions. It is most unjust."

"We were under the impression that your Age Line would keep out younger contestants, Dumbledore," said Karkaroff, his steely smile still in place, though his eyes were colder than ever. "Otherwise, we would, of course, have brought along a wider selection of candidates from our own schools."

"It's no one's fault but Black's, Karkaroff," said Snape softly. His black eyes were alight with malice. "Don't go blaming Dumbledore for Black's determination to break rules. She has been crossing lines ever since she arrived here. Like father, like daughter, she -"

"Thank you, Severus," said Dumbledore firmly, and Snape went quiet, though his eyes still glinted malevolently through his curtain of greasy black hair. Professor Dumbledore was now looking down at Raela, who looked right back at her, trying to discern the expression of the eyes behind the half-moon spectacles. "Did you put your name into the Goblet of Fire, Miss Black?" he asked calmly.

"No," Raela answered curtly. She was very aware of everybody watching her closely. Snape made a soft noise of impatient disbelief in the shadows.

"Did you ask an older student to put it into the Goblet of Fire for you?" said Professor Dumbledore, ignoring Snape.

. "No," said Raela vehemently, her tone beginning to become coated with venom.

"Ah, but of course she is lying!" cried Madame Maxime. Snape was now shaking his head, his lip curling.

"Young Miss Black could not have crossed the Age Line," said Professor McGonagall sharply. "I am sure we are all agreed on that -"

"Dumbly-dorr must 'ave made a mistake wiz ze line," said Madame Maxime, shrugging.

"It is possible, of course," said Dumbledore politely although his undertone severely doubted what had come from his own mouth.

"Dumbledore, you know perfectly well you did not make a mistake!" said Professor McGonagall angrily. "Really, what nonsense! Miss Black could not have crossed the line herself, and as Professor Dumbledore believes that she did not persuade an older student to do it for her, I'm sure that should be good enough for everybody else!" She shot a very angry look at Professor Snape.

"Mr. Crouch.. . Mr. Bagman," said Karkaroff, his voice unctuous once more, "you are our - er - objective judges. Surely you will agree that this is most irregular?" Bagman wiped his round, boyish face with his handkerchief and looked at Mr. Crouch, who was standing outside the circle of the firelight, his face half hidden in shadow. He looked slightly eerie, the half darkness making him look much older, giving him an almost skull-like appearance.

When he spoke, however, it was in his usual curt voice. "We must follow the rules, and the rules state clearly that those people whose names come out of the Goblet of Fire are bound to compete in the tournament."

"Well, Barty knows the rule book back to front," said Bagman, beaming and turning back to Karkaroff and Madame Maxime, as though the matter was now closed.

"I insist upon re-submitting the names of the rest of my students," said Karkaroff. He had dropped his unctuous tone and his smile now. His face wore a very ugly look indeed. "You will set up the Goblet of Fire once more, and we will continue adding names until each school has two champions. It's only fair, Dumbledore."

"But Karkaroff, it doesn't work like that," said Bagman. "The Goblet of Fire's just gone out - it won't reignite until the start of the next tournament -"

"- in which Durmstrang will most certainly not be competing!" exploded Karkaroff. "After all our meetings and negotiations and compromises, I little expected something of this nature to occur! I have half a mind to leave now!"

"Empty threat, Karkaroff," growled a voice from near the door. A _clunk_ from the person's peg-leg caused Raela to shift her gaze in order to see a grizzled old man limping towards them. It was an auror she had heard about from Sirius; Alastor Moody, the craziest or most paranoid man in all of Magical Britain. What was he doing here?

"You can't leave your champion now. Lil missy's got to compete. They've all got to compete. Binding magical contract, like Dumbledore said. Convenient, eh?"

Raela snorted, interrupting the arguing adults, "If you've nothing left to say to us, then I would excuse myself so I may refrain from...unsavory actions."

"Ah, but I do need to inform you four of the first of three trials," said Ludo. "The first task is designed to test your daring," he told Raela, Cedric, Fleur, and Viktor, "so we are not going to be telling you what it is. Courage in the face of the unknown is an important quality in a wizard...or witch. Anyways, it's very important. "The first task will take place on November the twenty-fourth, in front of the other students and a panel of judges." He then turned to his colleague to conclude.

"The champions are not permitted to ask for or accept help of any kind from their teachers to complete the tasks in the tournament. The champions will face the first challenge armed only with their wands. They will receive information about the second task when the first is over. Owing to the demanding and time-consuming nature of the tournament, the champions are exempted from end-of-year tests." Mr. Crouch turned to look at Dumbledore. "I think that's all, is it, Albus?"

"I think so," said Dumbledore, who was looking at Mr. Crouch with mild concern.

"Are you sure you wouldn't like to stay at Hogwarts tonight, Barty?"

"No, Dumbledore, I must get back to the Ministry," said Mr. Crouch. "It is a very busy, very difficult time at the moment... I've left young Weatherby in charge.. . . Very enthusiastic. . . a little overenthusiastic, if truth be told..."

"You'll come and have a drink before you go, at least?" said Dumbledore.

"Come on, Barry, I'm staying!" said Bagman brightly, mispronouncing his colleague's name. "It's all happening at Hogwarts now, you know, much more exciting here than at the office!"

"I think not, Ludo," said Crouch with a touch of his old impatience.

Raela did not stay to hear further protest from the ex-beater for the Wimbourne Wasps. She was out in a matter of moments.

* * *

 **A/N: Short chapter, I know. But if I hadn't cut it there, it would've been another obscenely long chapter that take me another six months to write. Also another thing: I'm going back to rework the prologue and earlier chapters. I'm going to hopefully rewrite or add more meaningful scenes for a more cohesive story. So when chapter 5 comes out, it would be in your best interests to reread from the beginning before proceeding to the newest chapter. Otherwise shit won't make sense and you'll be irrevocably lost amidst the familiar unfamiliarity of what has been woven and unraveled.**

 **Going along with the planned revision and tweaking, I was considering changing our heroine's name. Raela is a little out there for a Harry Potter fanfic even then. So I was thinking of renaming her Violet, Merida or Sapphire. But I'm also open to whatever suggestions my faithful readers suggest! So let's see your ideas.**

 **Last question: should I just scrap this fic and repost it once the prologue and chapter 1 have been revised/reworked so you'll all get notifications?**

 **TTFN!**


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